The Dalish and the King
by Hinata1313
Summary: Maylea Mahariel finds a cursed mirror while looking around in a ruin with her love Tamlen. Never had she thought that a live-less piece could change her live, her dreams and her future.  Alistair helps as good as he can, and better than he thought.
1. Chapter 1

Here I am again! This time no Naruto-story, this time it's Dragon Age! Well, Dragon Age: Origins, to be precise. I so love that game! All the different choices, the banter, the romances... *sigh*  
>Well... usually I'm torn between Zev and Alistair, but this time it'll be the cheese-loving ex-templar.<p>

Unlike usual this story will be beta-ed from the start, and I humbly thank the wonderful Adalae Amell for helping me. Thank you so much!

Like always: Dragon Age and all its characters belong to BioWare; though they keep making appearances in my mind. I do not make any money with this story, I simply write it because I have to and because I like to entertain. Now, please enjoy and leave some reviews, if you like.

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><p>For weeks they had been travelling without long breaks. Paivel and Marethari kept them walking from sunrise till sunset. Most of the Clan remained silent, only the younger ones and the children complained from time to time. They had trekked through the south side of Ferelden, sticking to the outskirts of the Korcari Wilds. They were headed to the Brecilian Forest where they hoped for a bit of peace.<p>

"How long will we keep going?" Tamlen muttered under his breath.

Maylea cocked a brow at him.

"How ever long they see fit," She replied dryly.

He snorted while trotting on. "I mean, it's been weeks since we stayed somewhere longer than a night," he said.

She remained silent for a while. When she was sure that none of the Clan was listening she responded, "There's something brewing in the south, something dark and sinister. They seek to get away as far and as soon as possible."

"How do you know that?" he asked aloud and bit his lip as Ilen turned to look at him.

"You would as well, **_if_** you paid attention when they're talking," she whispered with a smirk that turned into a full grin at his grimace. She lightly nudged his arm with her elbow and snickered. "If you and Junar would give it a rest for a few days..." She trailed off and smirked at the way his lower lip formed a nice pout.

"It's not my fault he keeps going on and on. If he would just shut up," he mumbled.

Lea laughed loudly causing Ilen to turn to them again, his brow arched in question. She gently shook her head and he turned his gaze back on the trail in front of them.

Silence settled between Tamlen and Maylea again as they continued to walk along the foggy path. The ever present mist made following the trail more difficult, though they didn't need to worry about being attacked. The Chasind stayed away from the Dalish Clans that travelled that region as well as wolfs or bears. Some said it was the Creators who kept them away; others said it was Asha'bellanar who willed it so, though the last was only a hushed whisper during day.

Slowly, the first signs of the Brecilian Forest came into sight and a collective sigh of relief washed over the whole Clan. Though they didn't have to fear the Wilds they always felt nervous. As the Keeper called a halt for the day, they set up camp. Tamlen was ordered to help Maren tend to the Halla while Maylea was teamed up with Junar to go hunting.

"Have you seen any tracks?" Junar asked and Lea shook her head.

"Not around the trail. I guess we can risk leaving the path for one or two miles without risking losing all the light," she mumbled quietly while checking her bowstring.

"Alright, after you, Lethallan," Junar grinned with a mock bow and she shook her head before she took point. One mile to the south they found the trail of a flock of deer.

"You take the older buck over there; I'll take the doe to his left." She whispered under her breath and Junar nodded.

They let their arrows fly simultaneously, and as soon as they hit their targets the flock scattered and ran away. Shouldering the two dead animals, Maylea and Junar made their way back to the camp.

"Has he been complaining again?" Junar asked.

Maylea rolled her eyes, glad that he didn't see her reaction in the growing twilight.

"No, he hasn't. But, thank you for bringing it up again," she replied sarcastically and shifted the dead weight on her shoulders.

"Oh... I thought," Junar began.

"You thought wrong," Maylea interrupted, slightly peeved.

Silence fell between them, and as the aravel came into sight he sighed. "Abelas, May, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Never mind. Just keep your thoughts to yourself," she sighed.

They put down the two animals and went to clean themselves up while the others started cleaving the meat. Out of the corner of her eye Maylea saw the look Tamlen shot at Junar and sighed inwardly. Maybe it was time for her to show whose side she was on. When she took off her armour and only left on her normal clothing she returned back to the fire. Ashalle handed her a mug of freshly cooked tea and May took it with a warm smile.

"Ma serannas, Ashalle," she said, breathing in the herbal scents of the tea.

"You are welcome, Da'len," Ashalle nodded softly.

Her foster mother gave her a heart warming smile. With her tea Maylea made her way over to Tamlen, who was pulling at some knots in the Halla gear.

"Lethallin, take your time," she said with a smile and he cursed under his breath. "Wait, hold this." She gently slapped his hands away and handed him the mug while she undid the knots. "There you go." She took her tea back and snickered at his unbelieving expression.

"How did you do that?" he asked and frowned while he looked at the straps.

"Take your time and do it slowly. If you pull at them the way you were doing, you're only tightening the knots," she explained gently.

He sighed and shook his head while he stood up to put the gear away.

"Next time you're glaring daggers at Junar make sure no one sees." She snickered.

He flinched before groaning in response.

Her light laughter reached his ears and he turned to look at her. The glow of the fire behind her made her skin and hair glow while it hid her facial features in the dark. However, he knew her well enough to know that she was smiling at him; her Tamlen-smile, how he called it. He had never seen her smile that way at any other Clan member. He cleared his throat and hurried to put the gear where it belonged before he followed her back to the fire. He got a mug of tea as well and sat down, snickering as Ashalle ushered Maylea away who wanted to help her.

"Da'len, sit down," The older woman said and pointed on the ground next to Tamlen.

"You did enough today," Ashalle told Maylea.

With a pout the young elf sat down and got playfully nudged in the ribs by Tamlen.

"The great hunter is forced to sit below the salt," he snickered and Maylea gave him a light whack on the back of his head. He laughed out loud and ducked his head as she landed a light punch on his shoulder.

"Stop it! You're a bad example for the children," Ashalle scolded them.

Lea shot Tamlen a dark glare and he stuck out his tongue, grinning childishly.

"Wait until I get you alone," she hissed.

"Come on Lethallan, you know I was just making fun," he snickered.

"That's not funny. May the Dread Wolf take me should I ever become arrogant," she grimaced.

"Don't take everything so personally," he sighed.

The rest of the Clan gradually gathered around the fire, and as the last member joined them the food was passed around. They thanked Andruil and Sylaise for the successful hunt and the fire to cook their food before they started eating. It was unnaturally silent afterwards, even for their conditions. After supper the guards for the night were selected and slowly the gathering dissolved. Many went to bed, some started patching clothes and the rest listened to Hahren Paivel. Maylea and Tamlen remained at the fire, leaning back to back against each other, simply enjoying the warmth of the flames and listening to the pieces of the conversations around them that reached their ears.

"What are you doing, Tamlen?" she asked after a while when she was slightly disturbed by his movements and tilted her head to the side.

"I'm carving something. Don't peak! You'll see it soon enough," he hissed back and continued his work.

Maylea sighed and then slid down a bit, her head resting against his shoulder and her eyes drifted shut. A silent snicker from him caused her to inquire with a hum.

"Junar," he breathed back. "You should see the look on his face, Lethallan."

"Don't provoke him, please," she whispered without bothering to move or open her eyes.

"I won't, I promise."

She hummed in approval and as Tamlen's steady movements continued without any disturbances she nearly fell asleep.

"Time to go to sleep," He announced after a long while and nudged her lightly.

Yawning loudly she sat up and looked around her. "My tent!" She exclaimed and shot up to her feet.

Tamlen laughed and then stood up as well.

"I've taken care of that already. It's next to the storage aravel. Sleep well, emma sa'lath," he told her.

The last part was only a mere whisper, but it made her heart beat faster. His grey eyes were shining like stars in the dying light of the fire, and she smiled his Tamlen-smile that he loved so much. With a wink he turned and headed for his own tent. No matter how often he breathed that endorsement in their few private moments it still made her knees weak and her insides flutter. She had thanks the Creators many times for her darker skin complexion and the way it hid her blushes. Right now was one of these times. Shaking her head at her overreaction she went into her tent and snuggled up under the covers.

As soon as the sun sent its first rays of light over the sky the camp was busy again. Everything was packed up and soon they were on their way again. Around noon they left the mist and the last remains of the Wilds behind and entered the southern part of the Brecilian Forest. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off of their shoulders, since conversations started and occasionally one could hear laughter. Two days later, they reached a clearing where the Keeper called for a stop. It was obvious that they planned to stay there longer since they were ordered to set up a secure gate for the Halla.

"Finally! I thought they were making us walk until we fall into the Waking Sea," Tamlen sighed as they finished their task and let himself fall to the ground.

"It's still not really a rest, you know," Maylea reminded him when he made a face.

"Thank you for ruining the moment," he whined and she snickered.

"We need to stock up, make some trades and repair some things on the aravel," she informed him.

"Ugh, that means contacting shemlen," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Not for us. The Keeper won't send us, I'm sure," She mumbled and was glad about it. The memories of their last meeting with humans weren't forgotten, and absentmindedly her fingers trailed over the scar on her collarbone.

Tamlen's gaze followed the movement of her fingers, and the disgust on his face made way to anger. He clenched his fists and stared at the ground before him. If he would have been faster, his shot just a tiny bit more precise, that scar wouldn't exist.

"It's alright, emma vhenan," She breathed out and immediately he froze and looked at her, his eyes wide. Then, the brightest smile she had ever seen from him lit up his whole face.

He jumped back to his feet and winked at her. "Wait here, I'll be back in a moment."

Puzzled, she looked after him and saw how he made his way through the camp towards Master Ilen. She watched him as he spoke with their elder and how a warm smile spread across the Craftsman's face. He handed something to Tamlen and then the latter weaved his way through camp again, but not back to her. He went straight towards the Keeper's Aravel. Maylea frowned, confused. She waited and as he came back, smiling brighter than the sun, she couldn't help but smile back. He stopped right in front of her, his hands behind his back; he bent down in front of her.

"Close your eyes," He ordered, and without questioning she did as he said.

"Hold out your hands." Again, she obeyed.

She felt something being placed gently on her palm.

"I told you that you'll see what I was carving soon enough. Now, open your eyes," he whispered, smiling softly.

She could hear the excitement in his voice and felt as nervous as the day she had received her Vallaslin. As she saw what was resting on her hand she gasped.

"Tamlen, it's... 'beautiful' sounds so insufficient..." she breathed and he dropped on his knees with an impish grin. "What is it?" she asked and he traced his finger lightly over the carving.

"First, I thought about Andruil's symbol, since you're a hunter, but then I decided Mythal would be better, since I wish you to stay safe wherever you go. It's Ironbark with Halla-horn marquetry. I just needed a good leather band," he explained and grinned even wider as he saw the awe in her eyes.

"It's wonderful, so detailed..." she whispered, tracing her fingers over it again and again.

"It's meant as Enansal," he said carefully and after that her eyes finally left her hand. Her face seemed blank, but as he thought about explaining further she smiled and held out her hand to him.

"Help me put it on! Please?" A tidal wave of relief washed over him as he hurried behind her to knot the band around her neck.

"I was afraid you might not like it," He admitted sheepishly.

She shook her head. "After all we've been through, you couldn't really think I'd bond with someone else?" She asked, sounding slightly offended.

He scratched the back of his head and smiled ruefully. "Well... the fear was there... but now it's alright."

"Really, sometimes you **are** a fool," she chided lightly and he laughed out.

"I'll give you that. So, how about we do something useful?" he asked, an attempt to change the subject. "We could ask Master Ilen if he needs something to be done."

They headed to the Craftmaster and he was surprised to see both eager to do something, but putting aside help when offered freely was stupid. So, he sent them to search for some Ironbark, and they happily obliged.

"I can't wait to see the look on Junar's face." Tamlen giggled childishly and Maylea snorted.

"Really, Lethallan, you shouldn't do that. Last time you rubbed something in his face it ended badly for both of you," she reminded him and he rubbed his jaw with a flinch.

"Yes... now that you mention it... he did hit me good," He mumbled and she nodded.

"And you deserved it. Honestly, Tamlen, you simply should've left him alone. If Junar is going to poke a bear in the nose, would you do the same? Foolish as it is?" she questioned expectantly.

"Must you always be this... serious?" He retorted, making a face.

"Since you stick to being childish, some of us must stay focused," she argued.

They bickered a bit and finally found some Ironbark. The next week was silent and busy; they got most of the work done, though half of the hunters were gone to trade with humans two villages away. In the evenings the silence was eerie at camp, Paivel wasn't even telling stories, so they simply sat around the fire until they were tired enough to go to bed.

After ten days the hunters returned, bringing along all the things they had been sent to retrieve.

"Abelas, Keeper," Junar's father said. "We had to lose a few shemlen who were trailing us."

"It is good that Mythal was with you," the Keeper nodded.

That evening had been one of celebration, since all had returned safely. Maylea had been leaning against Tamlen while Hahren Paivel had been regaling the Clan with stories. As his stories reached their end and he hummed the first lines of Suledin, Maylea joined in with her clear singing voice. When she finished the Clan took it as sign to retreat for the night.

All in all, the day had been nice and all looked forward to a relaxing night's rest now that the Clan was complete again. But it didn't remain peaceful for long.

Maylea had been in the bushes before she went to bed when she heard silent hissing.

"How dare you! You could at least have been fair enough to wait until I was back!" Junar growled.

"You make it sound like I was stealing your property," Tamlen spat back.

She froze where she stood.

Tamlen and Junar, again.

"You know as well as I do that May is no one's property," Junar replied dryly.

"You finally see the truth of it. You know that I already promised her," Tamlen said.

"That doesn't mean that she would still stick to it, seeing your inappropriate behaviour all the time," Junar hissed angrily.

"Because of you!" Tamlen seethed back.

Lea listened, trying to pinpoint where they were exactly.

She didn't want them to argue, not again, and not about that topic. She had told Junar often enough that she felt too drawn to Tamlen; her blond friend was not only her shadow since early childhood, but her soul mate. She knew it, Tamlen knew it and the rest of the Clan guessed it.

And then the first fists flew. She noticed where they were as she saw Fenarel run towards them, trying to separate them.

"Nae!" she called and dashed towards them, grabbing a wrist of each of them, fruitlessly trying to separate them.

Junar's intention to shove her aside and grasp the collar of Tamlen's leather armour resulted in him backhanding her in the heat of the fight. The sound of the slap made them all freeze in motion. Both Tamlen and Junar gaped as she fell on her backside, her eyes wide open in shock. Fenarel was next to her in an instant, helping her up before they even noticed what was going on.

"Why?" Maylea asked and looked between her two Clan-mates. It was then that the flap to the Keeper's Aravel opened.

"What in the Creators names is going on there?" she called out.

After a seemingly long look at Maylea, Tamlen ushered them all away, out of sight before Marethari could reach them.

Fenarel dragged Lea along with him and hid behind a tree. Junar was only one step ahead of them, and all three watched how the Keeper verbally lashed at Tamlen, who listened to her in stoic calmness. As she had returned to her Aravel, pretty steamed, Maylea shrugged Fenarel off of her and rushed towards Tamlen.

"Why did you... oh Tamlen!" she hugged him tightly and he her hugged back.

He peeled himself out of her embrace and stepped in front of her as Junar came back.

"Lay a hand on her again, and you will regret it," he hissed lowly.

"I'm sorry." Junar's face was nothing but remorseful.

"You had better be," Tamlen snorted.

Maylea gently shoved him aside. Her cheek was lightly swollen and Junar flinched at the sight.

"Go to bed and don't start something like that again," she said dryly.

"Ma nuvenin and abelas again, May," Junar spook hurriedly.

She simply shook her head and waved him off. "Thank you, Fenarel."

"I didn't do anything." The young elf said and she smiled at him.

"You tried, and that's what counts. I know stopping two heated tempers like theirs isn't easy. Go sleep."

"Ma serannas, May," He said with a smile and left.

When Tamlen and Maylea were finally alone, she slowly turned to look at him. His left eye was already swelling; she knew he would have a shiner in the morning. He winced at the look in her eyes.

"Abelas emma sa'lath, I..." he started and she placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him.

"Don't, emma vhenan." She hushed him and placed a gentle kiss where her finger had been. "What I told Junar counts for you too, just keep it in mind." With that said, she left and went into her tent.

The following days weren't the best, especially since the Keeper eyed them all curiously. Junar and Tamlen acted a bit stiff around each other but were on friendlier terms. Marethari saw the bruises on the faces of her charges. She hadn't caught the culprits red-handed but she knew who they were. However, since Tamlen didn't tell her who was actually involved he was the only one who ended up being punished.

Junar helped Master Ilen without complaints, which was unusual for him and Maylea was ordered to help Merrill collecting herbs and other ingredients. After five days, the Keeper had mercy on them and allowed them back on normal duty.

Tamlen took the opportunity to go hunting. Fenarel was assigned to accompany him while Maylea helped Master Ilen, but the Craftsman saw the longing in her eyes and told her to leave with Tamlen; he would work with Fenarel instead. She thanked him with a beaming smile and then hurried after her love.

"Come on, Lethallan, hurry! We don't have all day!" Tamlen called over his shoulder, not knowing that it was Lea behind him and not Fenarel.

She caught up to him and poked his side.

"Lethallan? You should get your eyes checked, emma vhenan," she snickered and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wha-? Lea!" he exclaimed and hugged her tightly. "How... ugh... doesn't matter! Thank the Creators! I thought I needed to wait until supper to have some time with you." His grey-blue eyes were shining brightly and she smiled his favourite smile. "Come on, let's go hunt."

They moved around for two hours, musing how it could be that they hadn't crossed any tracks yet.

"I'll climb that fir over there and see if I can find something. Don't run off without me," she said with a wink and agilely climbed up the tree.

Tamlen watched her with a grin, knowing that she belonged to him. Then, he heard some noise and his head whipped around. He took his bow and went to look for where the noise came from, he only was sure that they weren't animal related sounds. Lea found a flock of deer only two miles ahead, they should be able to follow their trail after crossing the small river. With a satisfied smirk on her lips she climbed down and froze. Tamlen was gone. She heard voices nearby and quickly readied her bow and followed his trail.

Shemlen. Three of them, obviously looking down on him. She saw it with inner satisfaction that their smugness died away as soon as she joined her Clan-mate, the tip of her arrow pointing at the nearest shem's face.

"Timely arrival, Lethallan. I found these humans lurking around," Tamlen told her quietly.

She caught the hint of low anger in his voice and her dark green eyes narrowed on the humans in front of them.

"Thieves, I suspect." Maylea didn't pay much attention on what he was talking with them, she felt... disturbed.

"Let them go, they won't be bothering us," she mumbled absentmindedly.

He frowned at her, but then shot a heated glare at the humans.

"Go, Shemlen, and don't come back until we Dalish have ventured forth." He chased them away and then turned to look at her. "Lea, let's go look for that cave they were talking about. It's made me very curious." He was nearly beaming at her and she blinked confused.

"Abelas, emma vhenan, I haven't paid attention." She admitted and he frowned.

"The cave they spoke about, with the elven artefacts. Imagine what the Keeper would say if we'd bring some of those back!" he sounded ecstatic and she chewed on her lower lip.

"I don't know... didn't they mention a demon?" She asked worriedly.

Tamlen laughed out loud. "Lea, really they probably couldn't tell a bear apart from a wolf. You really believe them? Come on, just a quick look. If we find nothing we can still go back."

She looked at him, the feeling of alertness never left her.

"We're only looking. If we see something odd we're leaving." She clarified.

"Always the careful one, but fine, on your terms," he said, rolling his eyes.

It was hard to keep up with him, he was nearly sprinting as he followed along the path the humans had pointed them in. At the end they really found the cave and the ruins.

"They were actually right... but I can't remember it being here. Do you?" He asked in amazement.

Maylea frowned and looked around. She had been on many hunting trips around the Brecilian forest with the senior Hunters, but she never came across this cavern or the ruins before.

"Nae, and that worries me. Be wary, and as soon as something is out of place, we leave," she told him.

He mumbled something she didn't understand and then went down into the ruins. Maylea followed him; the bad feeling she had crept up her spine and curled its icy claws around her neck. It felt like icy needles slowly digging their way into her brain while the grip around her neck choked her. They barely entered as they were attacked by monstrous spiders. She stared at the creatures after they had slain them, her face a mix of horror and disgust. Tamlen wiped his sword clean and then looked at her, his face bewildered.

"I... I don't like it down here," He mumbled.

"Then let's leave. Now." She breathed as answer and the look on his face changed, almost... dreamy.

"What? No. Not without proof that there's something worth making a fuss over. Besides, a Dalish Hunter fears nothing."

She eyed him warily. That wasn't the bright minded Tamlen she loved, and he never acted that obsessed.

"Tamlen," she began.

"Yes. I know. Be cautious." He said and grinned, far more like his usual self.

"Say, weren't you supposed to help Master Ilen today?" he asked while walking through the dim passageways.

"I wanted to be with you," she admitted and he smiled while blushing a bit.

"I... am glad to hear that. Now let's see if we can find something of worth down here." He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her along. Around a corner he found a statue, something that reminded both vaguely at some pictures they had seen at the Keeper's Aravel.

"That looks like one of the Statues of the Creators. They had them back in the time of Arlathan," he marvelled.

"How do you know-" But, she didn't get to ask any further.

Some of the corpses they stumbled across arose and turned their empty dead eyes on them. First shock froze them, but then they started to move, taking them down just before they could reach them.

"Creators... what were those things? This place is haunted!" Tamlen stared wide-eyed on the half rotten corpses on the ground.

"Let us go back, Lethallin. Please..." Maylea begged.

The choking feeling got worse with each step and as Tamlen reached for the doorknob in front of them a ripple of agony coursed through her body.

"Don't!" she called, but the door was already opened.

A twisted creature roared and then charged at them. Maylea didn't know how Tamlen managed to move, his shield already blocking the punch of the monsters paw while his sword rushed down on its head. Only when the creature knocked Tamlen down did May snap out of her reverie. She placed an arrow in the beast's eye and it collapsed dead, burying Tamlen under its body.

"Tamlen!" she called out, running towards him to help him out. She cut her left lower arm on the beast's spikes but she managed to lift a part of the dead body to allow him space to crawl out.

"Tamlen, we should go. Now." Her voice sounded two octaves higher with fear.

He frowned at the animal and then shook his head. "You're not intending to leave without taking a look at this mirror?" he asked and looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"Tamlen... I don't like the feeling of this... it's dangerous." She pleaded with him.

"Lethallan, it's a mirror! It stood here for gods know how many centuries. What can possibly happen?" he scoffed in return.

May was about to argue when his head snapped towards the mirror.

"Did you see that? Something moved inside," he whispered.

"Don't touch it!" She called and reached out for him, but her feet were unable to move.

"I'm not going to break it." He said and rolled his eyes at her panic. He simply couldn't understand what her problem was. "It's showing me things... a city... underground? There's darkness... it saw me! Help me! I can't look away! Help me!"

Both screamed and a wave of power erupted from the mirror and May flew backwards, her back landing on the floor. As her eyes opened she saw the face of a human, he talked to her through the thick fog clouding her mind and then the blackness embraced her once more.

When Maylea came back to consciousness she was laying in a bed. The scent told her it was the Aravel where they treated the sick and injured. She found her armour next to her bed and got dressed. Her head was throbbing with pain and all of her limbs echoed the sensation. As she dressed, she saw the bandage on her left arm and frowned. It was then that everything came back to her mind and she dashed out of the Aravel. Outside, she nearly fell as her circulation protested over the sudden movement. Fenarel caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Thank the Creators you're awake! The Keeper wants to hear from you. Wait here, sit down... I'll go get her." He turned on his heel and stormed off towards the Keepers tent.

Maylea rested her forehead in her hands, fighting against the convulsions in her stomach.

Keeper Marethari finally came to her, a worried frown marring her forehead. "Da'len... how are you feeling?" she asked, concerned.

Maylea frowned. "Where's Tamlen? How is he?" she asked and the Keeper sighed.

"We don't know where he is, Da'len. Duncan, the human who brought you back, told me that he found only you in front of that cave. What were you doing there, child?"

"We... we met three humans in the woods, they told us something about a cave and a demon. They carried an elven artefact with them. We wanted to look and see if they were telling the truth... we chased them away and then went to look. There were... walking corpses and a... bear? Then there was a mirror... Tamlen was drawn to it and he touched it. Then he screamed and that's all I remember." Maylea frowned at the memory.

Again, the Keeper heaved a sigh. "I hoped to find answers when you woke, Da'len, but there are only more questions. Do you feel well enough to go back? We need you to find the cave and look for Tamlen."

"I'm fine enough, I need to find him," Maylea replied.

"I hoped you would say that. Take Merrill and then leave," Marethari instructed.

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper," Maylea said and stumbled to get to her feet.

She saw her weapons in a crate next to the fire and fumbled for them, nearly falling flat on her face at Hahren Paivel's feet.

"It's good to see you're well again, Da'len," he said.

She only gave a curt nod, since she didn't trust her voice.

"You should be grateful! What were you two thinking? Venturing in this cave alone?" he nearly shouted at her. His green eyes searched her face for answers, but all he found was pain and guilt.

"We... we just wanted to look for some artefacts," she mumbled and looked down at her feet.

"You should've come to us! You should've told us!" he exclaimed. He was angry and she deserved it, so she simply stood there, waiting for him to really shout at her. But he didn't. He heaved a sigh and then rubbed his forehead. "I guess your youth can be forgiven. Sadly, Tamlen shall pay the price. Do you know where he is?" he asked and she shook her head.

"I am to take Merrill and go back to the cave to look for him," she said softly.

He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders before he bowed down and looked into her eyes. "Your life doesn't only belong to yourself. You have an obligation, you know that. Be quick and stay safe, Da'len."

She tried to breathe past the lump in her throat and bobbed her head once.

"May the Creators guide your path," he offered as farewell.

She fought back tears, grabbed her bow and hobbled towards Merill's location.

Fenarel got in her way and stopped her. "You've been sent to look for Tamlen, right?" he asked and she nodded. "Let me come with you. Four eyes see more than just two."

"Fen... it's dangerous..." She started but he cut her off.

"If it's helping to find Tamlen, it's worth the risk. Please, I beg you."

Maylea sighed and then let her head hang in defeat. "Fine. I'm going to ask the Keeper."

Said and done. Since they had asked and Fenarel insisted on accompanying May she allowed it.

Again, Maylea tried to reach Merrill but Ashalle approached her.

"Thank the Creators you've recovered! I was sick with worry. The Keeper didn't know if you'd live or die. Poor Tamlen. We always hoped you two would..." Ashalle trailed off.

Without consciously thinking about it, Maylea's hand wandered up to his Enansal and her foster mother flinched.

"Is he..." The older woman did not finish asking.

"I don't know. I'm going to find him." May said, almost as if to convince herself that all was well.

"Again... first your parents and now this..." Ashalle sighed heavily.

"You've never talked much about them," Maylea noted.

"We didn't want to poison your heart with sorrow," the older woman spoke softly.

May shook her head. "I thought we were to gain every bit of knowledge of our pasts," she mumbled and saw the pain her statement caused Ashalle. She felt the sting of regret in her heart, but couldn't pay much attention to it; the pain she felt for Tamlen was already too much to bear.

"Go look for Tamlen. When you return I'll tell you as much as I can," Ashalle assured her.

May gave a curt nod and finally made her way up to Merrill.

"Aneth'ara. Are you ready to leave?" Merrill asked.

"Yes. Let's go." Maylea nodded.

"Do you think me blind? I can see Fenarel standing here," the mage said and cocked a brow at the hunter.

"We asked, I'm allowed to go." The young elf replied quickly.

"Fine," She sighed and nodded towards the forest.

It was easy for May to follow the path, since she felt a pull towards the cave. The cold fear was replaced with something different, something eerie; something dark. After a while they stopped as a foul scent hit their sensitive noses.

"Ugh, that stench... what is it?" Merrill asked and clasped a hand over her nose, while May grabbed her bow.

Fenarel quickly mimicked her motion and then he saw what his friend stared at. Two deformed creatures were standing not far away. Without a word the first arrow shot from May's bow and one of the monsters dropped lifelessly to the ground. The second one let out a feral snarl and charged at her. Fenarel dropped his bow and took out his dagger, charging at the thing attacking them. As it lay dead in a pool of slimy and stinking blood, Merrill recovered.

"Elgar'nan! Where these things... darkspawn?" she asked frantically.

"I think so," Maylea shrugged.

"How are you feeling? You aren't hurt, are you?" the mage asked, curious.

"Nae," she shook her head. "Why?"

"Now that Merrill mentions it... you look a bit pale." Fenarel noted as well.

"I'm fine!" she snapped in irritation and kicked the darkspawn corpse as she stomped onward on the path. Her two Clan-mates looked puzzled after her; she never was hot tempered.

As they got closer to the cave, they came across a cold campfire.

"Had this camp been here when you came last?" Merrill asked Maylea.

"It's fresh, you can see that," Maylea said, shaking her head.

The mage ignored the harsh tone in her voice and hushed them all.

"Maybe it's from that Grey Warden. Do you hear that?"

"It's too silent." May hissed and took her bow, notching an arrow on her bowstring.

She reacted to the inner pull she felt and knew that there were more darkspawn nearby even before she could see them. This time they were prepared and the beasts were dead before they could reach them. Maylea hurried past the corpses towards the cave, her brain only had one thought: Tamlen.

Merrill looked around with big eyes as they entered the ruins. "There really are ruins down here... it's human in origin, but elven artefacts scattered all around. Let's go and see if we find Tamlen, or what's left of him, with all that beasts around and him probably sick-"

"Shut up! You don't know that anything has happened to him! I live, maybe he still does too!" May barked at her heatedly and the mage paled while taking a step back.

Fenarel only looked away; she sounded so much like Tamlen when he had argued with Junar the last time.

Furiously, the hunter turned around, her bow still in her hand. She felt it inside her, the darkness; it was playing with her worst thoughts, boiling too close under her skin. As she had barked at Merrill, she felt the urge to simply rip off her head. Scared about that need she stomped away.

The next darkspawn were close, and she didn't even bother to shoot at it. She simply slammed her bow right onto its head before kicking it away. Neither Fenarel nor Merrill needed to help while she fought off the three beasts alone. The closer she came to the mirror the more she felt something whispering to the darkness within her. She bared her teeth and let out a low hiss as they bent around the corner towards the room that contained that cursed thing. In the middle of that room stood a man, a human warrior, amidst some slain monsters. He appeared to be inspecting the mirror. When he heard a hiss he turned around.

"Ah, you are the Hunter I found outside the cave. It is good to see you up again," he said warmly.

May stiffened; she heard an echo coming from him, something that felt similar to what she felt inside her. "You must be Duncan then, the Grey Warden."

He nodded and then looked at the mirror again. Merrill introduced herself, as well as Fenarel, but both were only acknowledged with a nod.

"You found this?" he asked and she frowned.

"No. Tamlen found it. He touched it. Said something about seeing things inside it. Then he screamed and I was thrown back. Everything went black then," she said and then snapped her mouth shut.

His eyes narrowed as he turned back to her. "It's Tevinter in origin. They were designed to communicate over great distances. With time they were filled with the same taint as the darkspawn. Some simply break... your friend's touch must have set the taint free."

She frowned. "The Taint?" May asked and he nodded again.

"I don't fear this sickness. The Keeper knows how to cure it." Merrill interjected and Duncan's gaze wandered to her.

As he met her eyes he shook his head. "Your Keeper only slowed it." Then he looked back at May. "You are sick, whether you believe me or not. Look inside you, then you will see that I speak the truth."

May only nodded. She knew he was right. "So, Tamlen is sick as well?" she breathed.

He nodded grimly. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do for your friend. He had been tainted three days ago without being treated like you. You only live thanks to the magic of your Keeper and your own willpower. I take it you haven't come to help me, but to look for your Clan-mate?" he asked and May flinched. He didn't need to ask more.

"The mirror is a danger that can't be left here," he said and the elf gave a nod. "It is best we destroy it. Take a step back." He ordered and drew his blade before shattering the mirror into pieces.

"We should go back to your Keeper. I've learned much I need to talk about with her… your cure is part of it," he told Maylea.

"I need to look for Tamlen!" May protested angrily and he sighed but kept a patient expression.

"Listen, I see that he is important to you, but trust me when I say he is gone. There is nothing you can do for him."

"But... I should look... I... " she stuttered and he placed a hand on her shoulder while looking deep into her eyes.

"Trust me when I say there's nothing you can do. You are very sick and need treatment." Duncan's tone was soft yet firm.

Her mind was still racing, trying to find something to say, but she found nothing. Fenarel gently took her hand and dragged her along, while Duncan kept gently shoving. Merrill stayed behind and looked at the shattered pieces of glass. For a moment her eyes became as dreamy as Tamlen's had been, then she quickly bent down and grabbed a piece of the mirror's shattered remains and shoved it into a pocket before the others could notice.

The throbbing pain in Maylea's body increased, but she hid it well. Duncan went to talk with Marethari while she was asked to go to Hahren Paivel to tell him to prepare the rite for the departed for Tamlen. He didn't need to ask if she found something, the torn expression she wore and the anguish that rolled off her in waves told him everything. He gently hugged her close as she whimpered against his chest.

"I failed him... I failed the Clan... I was too weak," she cried.

"Hush Da'len. Don't ever think something like that. It wasn't your fault," he tried to sooth her, but she didn't listen to his words. The only thing she needed was his presence, to be held like a child.

Ashalle came to her, placing a little package into her hands. Journals from her parents, as well as a keepsake locket from her mother. She already wielded her father's bow. She sat next to the storage Aravel and stared at the fire, not seeing any of her Clan-members. As Duncan and Marethari stepped into her line of view she looked up, her eyes empty.

"We have come to a conclusion regarding your illness," Duncan said and she frowned.

"My organization is in need of skilled fighters such as you. We need people like you, and you need a cure. I would gladly have you as a Grey Warden."

She turned to look weakly at her Keeper. "Am I to become a Grey Warden?"

Marethari nodded. "Long ago we Dalish swore an oath to support the Grey Wardens should they be in need. There is an army of darkspawn gathering in the south. It's a storm we cannot outrun. We honour our promises, Da'len. And trust me, I wouldn't do that if there was another way. I cannot allow to see you die from this illness... or worse."

May caught the pained look in her eyes and panic filled her heart. "Am I to leave forever?"

"I don't know which path the Creators lay before you, Da'len," Marethari replied quietly.

"I will be honest with you. The battle we are about to fight will take you far away from here and there is a chance that you never will come back." Duncan said, but May kept her eyes fixed on the Keeper's.

"It's your duty to heed the call, Da'len," the Keeper conceded.

After a moment of silence the young hunter sighed.

"Then I will accept the honour, Duncan, if you will have me." Slowly, she stood up, willing her body to stay in place when all it wanted was to give in, to succumb to the agony she felt inside.

"You will do us proud, Da'len. Here, keep this. It's only a small thing, but it will help you face the darkness yet to come. Go with our blessing."

"We need to leave quickly," Duncan said, but May shook her head.

"Can I... can I please stay for Tamlen's funeral?" she choked out and he nodded. She saw the understanding in his eyes and turned away; it hurt too much. She was already losing the battle to keep up her strong facade.

"Come then, Da'len. Let the Clan embrace you one last time." The Keeper led her away while Duncan waited patiently in the distance. He knew the ceremony was nothing the Dalish wanted a human to witness, and he wanted to grant his newest recruit this departure.

Junar came towards her, his face a mask of pain. He pulled her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Abelas, Lethallan. I lack the words to express what I feel... if only we hadn't... if I'd known..." he started but she silenced him.

"Don't. None of us knew. It was alright, it was normal... what we did. I wish... it doesn't matter now. Stay strong and keep all of them save. Promise me you will do this."

"I promise," he choked out.

"Take care of Fenarel. He's just at the beginning of his way. He needs to become as skilled a hunter as you," she said.

He squeezed her hand tightly and then let her go.

Fenarel was the next to part with her. He simply placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. She saw the questions, all the emotions and the single tear that fell from his eye.

"Stay strong, Lethallin. The Clan needs you," she said softly, and he nodded before he let go of her.

The other faces passed in a blurred rush – Harshal, Radha, Chandan, Eneria, Pol and the others – that only slowed as Ilen held her close.

"Don't forget your roots, Da'len. Don't let the world twist you. Remember the Vir Tanadahl," he told her.

Next in line was Ashalle.

"Now I lose both my children," she whispered in Maylea's hair and hugged her close. "Stay strong, Da'len. I – we – love you, don't forget that."

Somehow she managed a nod and was handed forth to Hahren Paivel. The sad and worried look on his face cracked her facade as she blinked away unshed tears. He kissed her forehead and then let her go. Merrill was standing next to the Keeper, silent tears running down her cheeks as she looked at her friend with her big green eyes.

"Stay strong for them, Merrill, and for me," May whispered and the young mage nodded.

The last one in line was Marethari. Both looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. Then the Keeper closed her eyes and May felt something click inside her heart. This was it, the end. The Clan wasn't her home anymore. She felt it, just as she felt the sickness inside her getting stronger.

She walked up to Duncan, her pack and her two necklaces nearly weighing her down. She took one last glance over her shoulder, at all the faces she held dear. Everything she ever got to know, she ever got to see... left behind her. But who was she kidding? The most important face among them was missing; eradicated from this world, along with their future.

Silently, she followed Duncan, away from everything she knew to face a fight that wasn't hers; for a world that despised her without any hope to have a place to return to once the battle was over.

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><p>For all who wonder about the elfish words - and some qunari in the future - you can find them all in the .com.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

I am very sorry that I kept you waiting, but many things happened the last weeks. My biggest problem was the sudden disappearance of my beta.  
>But I found someone who is willing to help me, so here's the second chapter. Enjoy!<p>

* * *

><p>Duncan kept an eye on his new recruit. As they had left the clan behind he had told her that they were heading south to Ostagar, and she had taken lead. Mostly they travelled back the way the clan had just come and the elf seemed to know exactly where to go. He knew that the Joining would be the only chance at something at least similar to a life. Nonetheless, the cut he forced her to make was cruel.<p>

He knew Marethari for many years now and according to her, his recruit was a proud hunter, taught in the old ways and he was taking her away from everything she knew. He had never felt pity before, but with her he felt strangely guilty. A city elf could walk his world. They were treated like second class citizens or even lower, but they knew how everything worked. The Dalish, who never had anything to do with humans, were another matter. He frowned while following her.  
>She was small, barely the height of a teen and slender. Angular was probably a better word. She was all sinews and muscles with not a grain of fat in her body. Her face was thin and oval. Her eyes had the usual elfish tilt and were bigger than human eyes. Her high cheekbones were a prominent feature in her face, but the most prominent was the tattoo she had chosen. It spanned over her forehead and down her nose, the other parts followed her cheekbones, highlighting them, and the last graced her chin. Even though her skin colour was as dark as his, the tattoo was clearly visible. She would stand out at Ostagar like a naked Bloodmage in the Chantry. The way she carried herself – or, tried to, now – was bound to catch attention.<p>

As they reached Ostagar, she looked up at the ruins with wonder in her eyes. They hadn't spoken a word ever since they had left her clan, and nearing his youngest Warden, who nearly talked all the time, brought other worries to his head. The fact that King Cailan himself came to greet him was surprising and worrying at the same time. The elf stood passive, as if rooted to the spot, while the two humans talked. She held her head proudly, and even managed to choke out her name and a formal greeting which surprised not only the King, but Duncan as well. And in turn, the human king surprised Maylea, since he seemed to respect the Dalish and their justified aversion to his race. But the king had disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, while spewing rubbish about tents and boring strategies.

May stood there and watched him walk away. How could the humans look for guidance in a man who still carried the expression of an awed child in his face? Duncan motioned her to follow him, talking about some things he had to do, but it boiled down to one request, "Please go and find our youngest Member, a Warden by the name of Alistair. Tell him, it's time to gather the other recruits and continue with the Joining." She gave a curt nod and then headed in the direction he had pointed her.

May looked around with her big eyes. She had never seen so many shemlen in one place. In fact, she couldn't even remember seeing armoured humans at all. Within her clan she felt normal, but here she felt small. Stubborn as she was, she kept her head up and looked around. The throbbing pain inside seemed to constantly grow, the healing cut on her left arm burned and let her fingers twitch. The dark whisper that had fluttered around the edge of her mind grew louder, and she shook her head as if she could chase it away. She saw so many different people, heard so many different voices but the smell was even worse than the noise. Duncan had told her where to find his tent and the Grey Warden Symbol made it easy to identify it. She placed her belongings just inside it and then went back out. Most of the people around appeared to be busy, or tried to look like it and ignored others around. But one man seemed to look desperately for help. Even though she didn't like humans, Duncan had told her to remain friendly. She was to become a Grey Warden, and as a Warden she was to get along with all of them. In the end, it was the heart wrenching whimper from behind a fence that caught her attention. The man standing next to the fence asked her if she could assist in some way.

"You... you are a Grey Warden, right?" the man said with a hopeful look in his eyes, "Please, I need help. This Mabari here is sick. His former Master died while battling the darkspawn and he swallowed too much of their foul blood. I have a medicine that could help him, but he needs to be muzzled first and he isn't allowing me in. Can you do it, please? He's such a promising member of the breed, losing him would be a shame."

She looked over the fence and saw a huge dog. That was the source of the woeful cries. "I will see what I can do," she said and lightly leaped over the fence.

The dog cowered in the middle of its pen, looking pathetic. "Andaran atish'an, emma Falon," she greeted the animal and it lifted its head to look at her. "I know how you feel. I know the burning inside your blood and how it tears at your will."

It whimpered again and crawled towards her. Maylea held out her hand and it lightly nudged its nose against it. "You can feel it inside me, can't you?" A silent bark answered her question.

"This Shem has medicine to help you, but he is afraid of you. Let me put this on and he will make the burning go away." With a little whimper it allowed her to put the muzzle on and then she patted its head, "Ma serannas."

As she stood next to the human again he looked at her, utterly amazed. "C-come to me, after the battle is over. I think there's a good chance that he might imprint on you."

She cocked a brow at him and he looked at the dog again. "Is there a chance that you will go into the Wilds?"

"Perhaps," she replied.

"If you happen to go there, could you look for a flower? I need it to make more of this medicine. It's snowy white with a dark red centre."

"I'll keep my eyes open," she said.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked and she looked at him calculatingly.

"I'm looking for a young Grey Warden," she said and he nodded.

"Alistair. He went up there, you can't miss him."

"Ma serannas."

Maylea weaved her way through the soldiers and went up a ramp into another part of the ruins of Ostagar. She stopped there and looked over the part of the ruins she just came through. She only saw a few elves, all flat-ears, and so many shemlen. Never before had she felt so alone in her life. There was no place she would fit into here, and she would definitely not cower in front of shemlen as did her lost brethren. The looks the humans shot her were enough to tell her how much they looked down on her. She clenched her fists. How could a pathetic race, with no sense of honour and pride, have delivered a fatal blow to her ancestors was a mystery to her. All she could see was their weakness. There was no order, no sense of belonging. To her, the Vir Tanadahl was the path to follow, like to all Dalish, but these humans knew nothing about that. Couldn't they read the signs of nature? The warning that was shouted into their direction? They seemed deaf and blind to everything around them, yet they saw themselves as superior. She scoffed and fought back a snarl. The dark whispers inside her grew and threatened to overwhelm her. Vehemently she shook her head and turned around, she had a duty, and she would take it seriously.

Soon Maylea heard two angry voices and she turned in their direction. A man wearing a dress was arguing with a man clad in metal and the latter, she surmised, was Alistair. The robed man roughly shoved her aside as he stomped past her. The dark whisper in her mind got louder and demanded to take down this man and spill his blood, as she heard heavy footsteps approaching.

Alistair saw the woman as soon as the mage nearly ran her over and froze. They had heard rumours that Duncan was bringing a new recruit and that said recruit was Dalish, but he never thought that it was true. 'Say something!' he mentally shouted to himself.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he blurted out and winced inwardly at his foolish sentence, but the elf only cocked a brow.

"You are a strange human," her voice was even, though he could sense some strain in it.

"Wait, we haven't met, have we? You don't happen to be another mage?" he asked and again, she stared at him coldly, nearly making him wince.

"Nae, we haven't met. You must be Alistair."

He was surprised about the confidence she showed and nodded, "Yes, and you must be Duncan's newest recruit."

"Yes. My name is Maylea."

"You know, we never had many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is."

She gave him a calculating look and then crossed her arms in front of her chest. Under different circumstances he would've laughed at the way it looked, but the dead-serious look she wore on her face stopped him from doing so.

"Perhaps because we are too smart for you," she offered in a dry tone.

A smug smile tugged at his lips, "And yet you are here. What does that make you?"

Obviously his humour was lost on her. "Incredibly unlucky," she stated dryly.

"Ouch!" he said and winced, but she remained unimpressed.

"Tell me, have you ever encountered darkspawn?" he attempted to change the topic.

"Yes. Just recently," she said.

She was not a very talkative person Alistair guessed and pursed his lips.

"Let's go back to Duncan. I bet he is eager to continue. Have you found the other recruits yet?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Then let's go."

He went down the ramp and then turned to the right, walking up to a strangely clad woman who spoke to a group of men. Alistair approached another armoured man and talked to him.

"Down there, that's Daveth. Go and fetch him," he told her and with a nod she turned and left.

"Is she Dalish?" she heard the man behind her whisper to Alistair.

"Yes. Maylea. Come, Duncan wants to proceed."

But as soon as both had turned around, shouting rose from behind them.  
>Maylea concentrated on the yearning of the darkness within her mind. She wanted to push it back and lock it there, but with each hour she spent, it only grew stronger. Alistair's voice had just been a bare whisper, reaching her ears through fog. Duty - that was all she could focus on right now. She had failed Tamlen, she wouldn't fail anyone else. She saw the man he had told her to fetch, but she didn't reach him. Rough hands grabbed her from behind and hauled her off of her feet.<p>

"Look at what we have here. A knife-eared bitch dressing up. And this armour... what's it made of?"

She didn't see who spoke, but she smelled him. He reeked of old sweat and foul teeth, mixed with used up adrenaline and fear. Other men laughed nearby and she gritted her teeth. 'Duty, you have...' she tried to keep her mind straight on it, but her thoughts were interrupted.

"How about we show her where she belongs?"

The tone alone fuelled the dark whispers in her mind like dry straw would feed a fire. 'Dread Wolf take the duty.' She thought and threw her head back. It collided sharply with the man's face and he dropped her to the floor.

"Len'alas lath'din," she seethed, tasting her anger bitterly on her tongue. The man held his nose and cursed violently, but his bumbling movements made it too easy for her to see all his weak spots. She grabbed his wrist, whirled around him and with a rough jerk dislodged his shoulder. A loud cry of agony alerted nearby soldiers, but she didn't care. The dark whisper inside her rose to a chant, echoing louder with each heartbeat until all she could hear was this strange voice.

"I'll snap that useless neck of yours you damned bitch!" he roared and scrambled back to his feet. Alistair tried to elbow his way through the gathered watchers, shaking his head to the hollers he heard - "Teach that knife-ear!"

He didn't have to see which 'knife-ear' they meant to know who it was. The tingling sensation in his brain, one he felt around darkspawn, confused him. He shouldn't feel it this close...not unless... Maker! She had said she fought darkspawn, could it be...? He tried even harder to get to the front.

"You are dead, bitch!" He heard someone growl and the answering hiss sounded like from another world. "Ar tu na'din." He didn't know what it exactly said, but he caught the meaning of it. He saw her dancing around the soldier, it seemed so unfair if you looked at the difference in size, but she knew exactly where to strike. She only used her fists, no weapons, and still she was able to fell him. As he lay on the ground again and she hovered over him like a cat ready to strike, Alistair had reached the front row. She had her foot planted on the man's neck. He knew even though she seemed so fragile, just stomping down her foot would kill the man. "Halam sahlin, shem." Her teeth were bared and her nostrils flared in anger, but before she could stomp down Alistair had grabbed her arm and hauled her away. "Maylea, no!" he ordered sternly and froze as he looked in her face. She was already tainted, even more than he had feared. What had Duncan thought?  
>"You, get yourself to the healer. And perhaps it would be good for your health to not threaten random people," he told the soldier who spat at the ground in front of May.<p>

"That witch should die for what she did!"

"Pardon me, Ser Knight, but it was you who approached her. She only defended herself," said Daveth as he stood with a smug smile next to Alistair. Seeing how so called 'authority' got beaten up always made his day. "And I doubt King Cailan would be pleased to hear that you had attacked a Grey Warden," he added, causing the soldier to pale.

"G-Grey Warden?" he stuttered and took two steps back. Alistair couldn't help but snicker as he saw the man's reaction. "You all! Don't you have something better to do? There are enough preparations to be made!" Alistair called out and the gathered mass dissolved. He sighed in relief as everything went back to normal. Maylea yanked herself free of his grip, her mind still burning with the dark desire to kill. "Duncan waits," Alistair simply said, and all of them walked towards the fire. Jory kept a safe distance from the elf, while Daveth seemed to move close to her.

"What was that trouble about?" Duncan asked and looked at Alistair. "One of the soldiers attacked Maylea. Obviously, some of the men think they can do with the elves as they please."

"Did you...?" Duncan asked her and she shook her head. She clenched her fists and kept her gaze locked to ground. She still heard the voice in her head, clear as a bell, urging her to shed blood, to leap at the dark skinned man in front of her and slay him but she fought back. That the others were talking about something they had to do had escaped her notice. As Duncan shoved her bow and quiver at her, her gaze snapped up to his face. She saw worry in his eyes and frowned, confused, but he only nodded his head towards a gate. She turned and started to walk away, Daveth and Jory behind her, while Alistair remained next to Duncan.

"She is already tainted and it has spread. How comes she still lives?" Alistair asked silently and Duncan frowned. "It had been her Keeper's old magic to slow it down. I hope that the Joining can fix it. Perhaps she will be better with her new senses than I am, but first she has to survive. The whispers of the Archdemon surface in her, I can sense it. Make haste Alistair; I fear we don't have much time left."

"Maker watch over you, Duncan."

"May He watch over us all."

Alistair hurried after his charges and caught up with them just as the gate opened. "Remember, three vials of darkspawn blood and the treaties," he said and the men nodded, while the elf simply focused on their way ahead. Frowning at her behaviour they followed, while she marched on without looking at them.

"What's wrong with her?"Jory asked wearily and Alistair shrugged.

"I guess she doesn't like human company," he suggested and Daveth snickered.

"Or she just doesn't like knights," Daveth grinned and hurried after her. May lead them better through the maze of the Wilds than any compass. Alistair was astonished and a bit scared – though he wouldn't admit it – of the way she fought. She shot her arrows with deadly precision, not wasting any moments with talk but keeping their backs safe.

But it wasn't without trouble for her. The scar on her lower arm burned like fire and sent waves of agony through her body with each time she spanned her bow. 'Don't fail them,' she thought and bit back a gasp of pain. The singing in her mind became stronger and shot needles of pain in her head for each beast that fell. As the last of the group of darkspawn fell to the ground dead, she took her glass vial from Alistair and filled it. Daveth didn't waste any time to mimic her, but Jory stood rooted to the spot. With an aggravated growl she snatched the vial from his shaky hands and filled it, before harshly shoving it back into his hands.

"Seth'lin, you call yourself a warrior?" she scoffed and then looked at Alistair, "Where does Duncan think the treaties are?"

"In the ruins of a tower, but I don't know..."

"But I do. We passed by here a few weeks ago," she harshly cut him short and then marched off in a different direction while Alistair hurried after her.

"How are you holding up?" he asked and she shot a glare at him.

"What?"

"The taint. I can feel it inside you. How are you?"

"It's burning, but I have it under control," she answered, surprising herself with her honesty. He only gave a nod and remained silent otherwise. The elf kept surprising him even more. She really knew where to find the ruin and the chest. But the chest was empty.

If the hunter was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the swamp-witch, she hid it perfectly. And instead of squealing like a child like Jory – who nearly soiled his drawers – she demanded to be taken to the person who took the papers. Alistair still couldn't believe what she had done. Warily and with his hand on the hilt of his sword he followed them, readying himself to strike if needed.  
>As they reached the hut and the old woman turned to look at them Maylea paled.<br>"Asha'bellanar," she breathed and a short smile tugged at the witch's lips.

During the conversation that followed, Alistair had displayed his inability at diplomatic talk and for their own safety Maylea had kept the conversation with the witch short. In the end they got their treaties back and the woman called Morrigan accompanied them back through the Wilds until they saw the very gate they had left through. Not far from it she saw the wildflower the Kennel master had asked her to bring and picked it.

Back in the ruins, Duncan had had the mages prepare for the rite and Alistair was ordered to bring the recruits to the old temple. Maylea sneaked away to look how the sick Mabari was faring. The human smiled widely as she handed him the flower and she shook her head as he wanted to give her coins. She could feel that the dog was getting better, unlike her own condition. The pain and the whispers came in waves, growing and ebbing away, but each wave that came was bigger than the previous and she feared she would drown in it. Quickly she turned away and headed back to the ruins where she had found Alistair earlier that day. Her vision went blurry and she seemed to lose her grasp on herself. Jory and Daveth were bickering while Alistair stood like a statue and watched them. But as she approached his light brown eyes followed her movements. He could feel the taint getting stronger in her. He could feel her struggle to cling on to who she was. Hopefully Duncan was right and the Joining would help her.

Through sheer force of will she remained conscious, and a shiver ran through her body as Alistair recited the Warden's oath, something that reminded her too much of another oath, the oath of the Dales. As Daveth stepped forward to accept the chalice Duncan handed him and took drank from it, agony rolled through her body. She could hear the whisper in her head rise to a shout, something that demanded sacrifice, then Daveth fell and the voice ebbed away. She looked at Jory and his pathetic attempt to fight. Then the chalice went to her, and with a tired look on her face she drank from it. As soon as the tainted blood ran down her throat the pain flared up. It scorched its way down and then seemed to burn its way from the inside out. The voice in her head began to roar at her, and then she could see it, the source of the voice. A huge dragon, ugly and twisted, and it looked straight into her eyes. It roared at her and then she fell while blackness engulfed her.

_**No pain, but also no hope. Everything was gone. She heard sobs, her own sobs and fell to her knees.  
>"Lethallan... fight back..." a mere whisper reached her ears and she looked around, but saw nothing. <strong>_

"_**Tamlen?" she asked, shocked by the weakness in her voice.**_

"_**Emma lath... you must fight back. Don't let it win," his voice was urgent and sounded so close. "Emma vhenan... where are you?" May asked and hastily looked around. **_

"_**I'm with you, love. Fight back. Don't let it take you as it took me. You must live..." his voice vanished and she reached out her hand into the darkness before her, only to recognise how alone she was. **_

With a gasp for air she shot up and the blackness disappeared. She looked into two human faces, Duncan and Alistair, who seemed to be relieved to see her awake. Alistair helped her back on her feet, "I'm glad you survived. In my joining only one died." She didn't pay much attention to what either of them had said and wordlessly took the pendant the younger man handed her.

"If you feel well enough, follow me. The King wants you to attend the strategy meeting," Duncan told her and she looked puzzled. Alistair simply rolled his eyes and left them, his shoulders slumped down. The older Warden looked how he retreated and then turned to leave too. May hurried after him. Being alone around humans here had been an experience she didn't want to repeat.  
>King Cailan really seemed like a child, especially among the company he had. The man next to him carried himself like a true leader, a man who had fought many battles. She looked at him warily. Something seemed wrong with him. Then he turned his head and looked at her, straight into her eyes. But he looked away just as suddenly.<p>

A voice in her mind told her that she should feel caught, but she didn't. A gentle nudge against her shoulder told her to move and again she followed Duncan like a shadow, sorting through all the things in her mind. The voice was gone, as was the headache and the pulsing pain in all her limbs. She took that as a good sign. And to feel that her thoughts were free of that dark whisper was another good thing. But she felt a constant pull in the back of her mind, as well as a tingle in her newest scar. It changed a bit as they reached the fire and Alistair. It numbed.

"What? We're not fighting with you?" Alistair burst out and Duncan looked at him as if he was about to sigh and rub his temples.

"Alistair is right. We should be with you," May interjected and both men looked at her.

"It is the King's order, and I'm not acting against it. We must do whatever it takes to end the darkspawn... exciting or no," Duncan said sternly and Alistair crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no," Alistair announced and May cocked a brow. She imagined him in one of those ridiculous women's clothing she had seen on those preaching women around here and stifled a snort. That truly would look... funny.

"I don't know... It could be a good distraction," she said and he looked at her. An amused smile adorned his face, "Me shimmying down the rows of darkspawn? We could kill them while they were rolling on the floor laughing."

He was relieved that her temper had cooled, to see how she was ready to murder that soldier earlier that day hat scared him a bit.

"You two are going to light the beacon, no discussions," Duncan repeated and both nodded.

"May the Maker watch over you, Duncan."

"May he watch over us all."

Maylea left them to fetch her belongings and headed to the kennel to look after the dog. He seemed better already. "Aneth ara, emma Falon. Feeling better already?" she asked and it barked once. "Fine. I will see you after the fight then."

She shifted her pack and then turned around and walked back to Alistair. "May the Creators guide our path," she breathed and he looked at her.

"What?"

"Never mind, let's go."

They rushed over the bridge and Alistair was astonished at the grace she showed. Obviously her inner struggle against the taint had caused her to slow down. Now she seemed like a wild cat on the run. He had his problems with keeping up with her. Perhaps it was her lighter armour that allowed her such speed. But then he felt it, the rising tingle in his head and he stopped and looked down in the valley. He saw how the darkspawn poured in and clashed with Cailan's forces.

"Da'len!" - The Moment the word left Maylea's mouth, she clapped her hand over her mouth but it had the effect she wanted, he turned to look at her. "Come on! Time runs out!"

With a last glance down – and he swore he saw the King's golden armour – he followed her. They ran on and nearly ran into two men who came down the ramp that lead in the direction of the tower of Ishal.

"You... you are Grey Wardens, right?" the soldier asked and both nodded. "There are darkspawn in the tower, they came out of the ground and are everywhere!"

"Darkspawn? So far ahead of the horde?" Alistair asked and May shrugged.

"You two, follow us," she ordered and gripped her bow tightly. The tingle got stronger and nearly vibrated through her whole body, and then she saw them.  
>The Dalish bow sung and shot precise death to the creatures in her range, but there were always more coming. She frowned as she looked at her quiver. Slowly she was running out of arrows. "Maylea!" She turned around and barely managed to dodge a sword swing that would surely have behead her. The darkspawn – Hurlock, as Alistair had called it – snarled at her, but before it could lift its sword it was run through and roughly kicked aside. She blinked and saw Alistair with a smirk behind the dead body, "I thought I might lend you a hand."<p>

Involuntarily she grinned and he winked, before he knocked down the next Hurlock with a shield bash. The mage shot down the last darkspawn in the area and May busied herself with collecting as many good arrows as she could. Cursing elfish under her breath, she removed the quiver from her back and tied it to her belt, fixing it on her right thigh. They repeated the same on the next 'floor' and then they stood at the base of the tower.

"Am I allowed to ask you a question?" Alistair asked, as he cleaned the hilt of his sword.

"Uh... yes," Maylea answered and he grinned. "What was it you called me on the bridge? Dalin?"

She blushed and looked on the ground. "It was Da'len. It's accented dah-Len," she explained, still blushing. He could see it even though it was dark and he only had the light of the torches.

"It's... well... It slipped out, I didn't mean to..." she mumbled and then frowned. "It's how we call our children. You reminded me so much of Fenarel... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

He cocked a brow at her and then frowned, "Do I act like a child?"

"Nae! Creators, I know I shouldn't have said anything!" she whined and rubbed her forehead, but he playfully nudged her shoulder. "I'm kidding."

"I guess I have to learn a lot about your kind," she said and opened the door, "Wait here, I'll see if there are any traps."

Alistair watched her until she disappeared around the corner. The smile on his lips died away as he felt the darkspawn within the tower. He felt uneasy, they needed to make haste and the fact that darkspawn were already here made it worse.

"Clear!" Maylea called out and the three men joined up with her. They were greeted with an emissary and a few Hurlock archers. The elf attacked the darkspawn mage and Alistair focused on the ones that targeted her. Floor after floor they cleared, and just as they reached another level Alistair shook his head.

"What are they doing here anyway? There shouldn't be any darkspawn ahead of the horde."

"I thought you wanted to fight," May replied and he nodded.

"Yes, that's true. Maybe there is a silver lining to it after all. Anyway, we need to hurry. We need to light the beacon to signal Loghain's men."

"Elgar'nan," May sighed and shook her head, "Let's go."

They stumbled over many corpses. The soldiers in the tower didn't stand a chance against the darkspawn. "Falon'Din guide their souls," she breathed and looked up at the next flight of stairs. "Shouldn't we be at the top already?" she asked tiredly and Alistair nodded.

"That should be the top."

As they opened the door they froze. "Creators, what's that?" May asked. "An ogre," Alistair whispered the reply, unable to look away from the beast. Her hunter training kicked into gear and immediately she looked for weak spots. Harshal had impressed it upon her that it was essential to see the weak spots in her prey before it could run away or attack her. "Distract it," she said and slung her bow over her head, before drawing her two blades.

"What?"

"Distract it! Trust me!" said and dashed behind a pillar, to wait.

"You heard her! Stay out of its reach!"

And so their dance began. The three men kept the ogre fixed on them while Maylea rushed forward and back, like a weasel, and cut in the sensitive skin at the joints. The beast was nearly down as it roared out in pain again at another cut and threw his hands around wildly. It hit Lea right in the chest and threw her against a broken pillar. But the ogre stumbled backwards and Alistair took his chance. He ran at the beast, gave it a knock with his shield and then rammed the sword right into its head. With a grunt he twisted the blade and ripped it free, before he leaped off of the corpse and looked around. The mage helped the elf back on her feet and supported her, as she hobbled over to her fellow Warden.

"Can you... ugh... light the beacon?" she asked. Alistair he shook his head, "I lost my cinder."

"But I can," the mage offered and set the dry wood ablaze. They heard many feet running up the stairs, but the tingle both of the Wardens felt was more than just a bad sign.  
>The mage was the first to fall, his robes offered no protection against arrows, the second had been the soldier, and at least the broken neck was a swift death. Alistair saw how the arrows felled his companion and tried to reach her. He felt many cuts and a few arrows and had nearly reached her before darkness engulfed him.<p>

_**Wake up, Lethallan... you have much to do...**_

Slowly she regained consciousness and opened her eyes, blinking at an unfamiliar ceiling above her. She sat up and tried to focus, only to see the woman they had met in the wilds rummaging around in the room. "Ah, so your eyes finally open," she said, sounding strangely relieved, though the tune of her voice didn't match the look in her eyes, "Mother was starting to worry."

"You... you're the woman we met in the Wilds..." Maylea muttered and the woman came over to her bed.

"Yes. My name is Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. Do you remember mother rescuing you from the tower?"

"I... I remember being overwhelmed by darkspawn..."

"Hmm... much the same with your friend," Morrigan stated, a short displeased grimace rushing over her face.

"My friend? You mean Alistair?"

"The suspicious dim-witted one who had been with you, yes. He's outside. Mother wished to see you when you awoke."

"What had happened?" May asked and tried to remember what happened after Alistair had slain the ogre.

"The man who was supposed to join the battle at your sign, quit the field. All that remained were slain."

It took a while for the matter to sink in; then she blinked. "Thank you, Morrigan," Lea said and sat up, looking for her armour.

"I... you're welcome. Though mother did most of the work, I am no healer."

It took her a while to get dressed, her movements were shaky and slow. Only the faintest marks remained where the arrows had hit and her stomach clenched as she thought about it. As she was dressed she slowly left the hut.

"There is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man," The old woman said and Alistair turned, looking at the Dalish in disbelief.

"You... you live? I thought you were dead for sure," he nearly whispered.

"I am not, thanks to Morrigan's mother," she said, shortly looking at said person.

"Oh this all doesn't seem real. Duncan, King Cailan... dead... If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not speak of me as if I'm not present, lad," she chided, though her voice missed the sharpness which usually was supposed to be behind such words.

"But how should I call you? You haven't told us your name," he defended himself and the woman looked at him, as if she was choosing her words carefully.  
>"Asha'bellanar," Maylea whispered and the woman smiled at her.<p>

"The People are well informed," she said and then turned to look at Alistair. "Names are pretty but useless. But the Chasind-folk call me Flemeth, I guess that will suffice," she stated and he looked at her with wide eyes.

"_**The**_ Flemeth? So Daveth was right, you are the Witch of the Wilds!" Alistair said and fought the urge to step back.

"I know a bit of magic, but it served you both well," she said flatly.

"Who cares what she is? We need to do something," Maylea cut in. All the things that happened were still trying to fit into the right places of her mind, but her Keeper had told her she'd make her clan proud, and she wanted to live up to that. Flemeth nodded and Alistair frowned, "Why would Loghain do such a thing?"

"Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature."

"There is a blight we need to stop," May said toneless.

"All by ourselves? Never had a Blight been stopped without the alliance and forces of several nations! How will we do that?" Alistair nearly barked at her.

"What? How to stop the blight or to raise an army? Those are two different things, if I see right," Flemeth said and Maylea frowned.

"We could go to Arl Eamon. He hadn't been at Ostagar, so he still has all his men! And he was Cailan's uncle, so he has the greatest interest in seeing Loghain pays for what he's done."

"And you think that this... Arl... would believe us more than the trusted general?" Maylea asked and remembered the strange look in Loghain's eyes, the strange recognition they had shown as he had looked at her.

"Arl Eamon is a good man, I know him. He will believe us," Alistair insisted.

"What about the treaties Flemeth gave us?" she asked and the witch smiled approvingly.

"There is a smart lass."

Alistair's face brightened. "Of course! The treaties! The Grey Wardens have treaties signed by the dwarves of Orzammar, the Circle of Magi and the Dalish elves, promising us support in times of a Blight!" His expression was excited and May saw the glint of hope.

"I may be old, but dwarves, mages, elves, this Arl... that does sound like an army to me," Flemeth said and smiled, this time it seemed more honest then at their last meeting.

"Can we do this? Can we gather an army?" Alistair asked, suddenly not so confident anymore.

"Why not? It's what Grey Wardens do," May stated, not feeling utterly confident too, but sitting around idle wouldn't help in the least.

"So are you two ready? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Flemeth asked and both nodded.

"Yes, thank you for your help, Flemeth," the elf said, though she still didn't know what to make out of that woman. She didn't trust her, but she had saved their lives after all.

"No, no. Thank you. You are the Grey Wardens here. But there is still something I can offer you," she said and looked at the door of the hut, where Morrigan just left.

"The stew is bubbling, mother. Will we have two guests for supper, or none?" she asked and Flemeth shortly grinned, the strange look she wore the last time they met reappeared in her eyes.

"The Wardens will leave shortly, girl. And you will join them."

"How sad... what?" Morrigan snapped and stared at her mother.

"You heard me quite right. The last time I checked, you had ears. You've been itching to get out of the wilds for years; this is your chance to do so."

"But... this wasn't the way I wished it to be. I'm not even ready!" Morrigan argued but Flemeth shortly shook her head.

"You have to be ready. Together these two have to unite Ferelden against the Blight. Without you they will fail."

Morrigan blinked and then sighed, "I understand." Flemeth nodded and then turned to look at Alistair and Maylea, "And you? Do you understand? I give you what I value most to make sure you can reach your goal."

"We understand," May said curtly and Alistair nearly glared at her. The witch should join them? "Good," Flemeth said and looked back at Morrigan, who didn't seem to be very pleased.

"I will go and pack my things then."

With that she went back into the hut. Maylea kept her eyes on Flemeth while Alistair looked everywhere **but** at her. Then Flemeth looked her straight into the eyes and she felt unable to look away.  
>That moment she realised that Flemeth knew Marethari, knew the Sabrae-clan, knew that they travelled past, and knew that she had kept the animals of the Wilds away. She held her breath without realising she did so.<p>

"Creators," she choked out and Flemeth looked at the door of her hut. Morrigan just closed it behind her.  
>"Be careful, mother dearest, and don't forget the stew. I would hate to return to a burned-down hut," Morrigan said as she returned with her package.<p>

"Bah! It's more likely that all this place, including me and my hut, will be overrun by darkspawn!" Flemeth burst out, showing a bit more of her true temper.

"I... I only meant..." Morrigan stated, insecure for the moment.

"I know."

The outburst was concealed just as quickly as it had come.

"Do try to have fun dear," she handed her daughter a small bag and looked at her intently, "Bring them safely past the Horde."

She nodded and put the bag away, then turned towards the wardens, "I suggest a village not far out of the wilds. You can restock there, if you wish. I can point more things out to you, or I can simply be your silent guide."

"I have no problem with you as long as Alistair has none," Maylea said, eying her fellow Warden. "From the way he glares at me I do not need to ask," Morrigan scoffed.

"I... do you really want to take her with us, just because her mother says so?" he asked, obviously not pleased by the very idea.

"We need every help we can get," she answered and he sighed.

"I guess you are right."

"I am so pleased that you approve," Morrigan drawled, causing Alistair to glare at her.

"I guess we better get going," May said, placing a calming hand on her companion's shoulder. With a last silent 'ma serannas' to Flemeth they left.

Morrigan led them silently, Alistair followed like a ghoul and Maylea guarded the rear. The witch kept the pace up and they marched until the sun started to go down. The two women took care of a campfire and something to eat. May sighed as Alistair didn't react as she held out some bread to him. She shoved it into his hands and as he looked at her confused she put on a stern face, "Eat, Da'len." He looked at the bread and then slowly started to eat. The elf was worried about him, but she suspected she had been the same as Duncan brought her to Ostagar. As he lay down to get some sleep she turned towards the fire and carefully pulled her father's journal out of her pouch. She was so absorbed in reading that she didn't notice how the time passed by so she only got very little sleep. The next two days towards Lothering were the same. Alistair still wasn't talking and stumbled along the way, Morrigan remained rather silent and May trailed behind them.  
>Then, they heard barking. A Mabari came running towards them, wagging its stubby tail and then it turned around and growled. The elf took her bow and as soon as the first darkspawn reared its head she let an arrow fly. Morrigan laughed and seemed happy about getting some action. The fight was short and as the last lay dead on the ground the dog bounced back to them.<p>

"He looks like the dog you helped at Ostagar," Alistair stated and May looked at him surprised.

"You know?"

"Of course. It seems he has imprinted on you. Call yourself lucky."

The elf crouched down and the dog nudged its nose against her outstretched hand. "Aneth ara, emma Falon. Mythal had been with you, my friend," she said and it barked.

"Is this mangy mongrel going to join us?" Morrigan asked and Alistair looked offended.

"He's not mangy. I guess he has been looking for you."

"So it seems. Do you wish to join us?" she asked and the dog wagged its tail.

"Then you are welcome, my friend."

It nudged her hand again and she scratched it behind the ears.

"He needs a name," Alistair said and looked at the dog, who barked in agreement. Maylea pursed her lips and looked at the Mabari.

"How about we honour the name of my mentor? The best hunter of my clan is named Harshal. Does that sound good to you?"

The dog barked and jumped around in front of her.

"Alright then, Harshal, let's go."

And only a short while later they entered a part of the old Imperial Highway. "We're not far now, we will reach the village within an hour," Morrigan stated and took the lead again.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the longer break, but live is rather busy at the moment. I am very grateful that Lakme puts up with me as a beta. :) Thank you so much!

* * *

><p>And really, the village was near. On the remains of the Imperial Highway they inevitably were forced to interact with a group of bandits.<br>Maylea didn't like the looks of them as soon as she laid her eyes on them, even without regarding her usual aversion against humans. Harshal didn't seem to like them either, since the fur in his neck stood on end.  
>"Wake up gentlemen, there are travellers to attend to! Led by an elf, of all things."<p>

"Err... they don't look much like them others, you know. Maybe we should let these ones pass."

"Nonsense. Greetings travellers!"

"Highwaymen. Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose," Alistair mumbled and May merely gave a curt nod.

"They are fools to get in our way. I say: teach them a lesson," Morrigan said with a smirk and the elf had to admit that the thought seemed more than just charming at the moment.

"Now is that any way to greet someone? Tsktsktsk, a simple ten silvers and you're free to go."

For a Dalish, who never had encountered humans outside short fights – after the one incident she accidentally stumbled into the Keeper hadn't allowed her to go anywhere near humans again – it was rather confusing. He was sugar-coating something, that much was obvious to Maylea, but the look on his face assured her that he wasn't getting anything from her. His eyes were too greedy.  
>Gladly for her Morrigan spoke up, a sweet smile on her lips.<p>

"You should listen to your friend, we're no refugees." The way the witch spoke rose goosebumps on Maylea's arms, and the dark promise which lightly peeked through the sweet layer of her words nearly made Lea sick.  
>"What did I tell you? No wagons and these ones look armed." It was obvious to all of them that the speaking thief was everything but the brightest candle in the chandelier. His leader scoffed.<p>

"The toll applies to everyone, Hanric. That's why it's a toll, and not – say – a refugee-tax."

"Oh, right! Even if you're no refugee, you still gotta pay!"

"Finally grasping the obvious," Morrigan mumbled sarcastically under her breath and shortly May's corners of her mouth hitched upwards.

"So... you're toll-collectors, then?" Alistair asked sarcastically and crossed his arms in front of his chest while he looked at them with a cocked brow.

"Indeed! For the upkeep of the Imperial Highway. It's a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

Morrigan snorted and Alistair fought a laugh, while Maylea stood impassive between them. She kept her hand firmly on Harshal's shoulder and waited for a turn in the friendly words.

"Perhaps you should charge more then," Alistair suggested.

"You want to pay more? Oh, we happily accept donations."

Finally it was enough for Maylea and demonstratively she crossed her arms as well, while tilting up her head stubbornly.  
>"Forget it! We're not going to pay you thugs anything!" she exclaimed, her anger only raising more since none of the thugs seemed to take her seriously.<p>

"Well, I can't say I like to hear that. We have rules you know."

"Right, we get to ransack your corpses then. Those are the rules."

May snorted enraged, "Stupid shemlen... you can certainly try."

"I thought you would allow the dim-wit to talk us through here." Morrigan hissed into her direction while aiming the tip of her staff at the bandit leader.

"Well, this is going nowhere. Let's finish this, gents."

On his word the group of bandits charged. Alistair bashed the first to the ground with his shield while Morrigan froze another to the core. The Mabari barrelled into the bandit that foolishly had decided to aim a sword swing into Maylea's direction. Said elf drew her daggers and crossed them to catch another sword thrust before it could get too close to her. A painful shriek slowly turned into a gurgle which told her that Harshal had ripped out a throat. The witch applauded to the dog's move with a cheer while Alistair seemed to turn a bit green around the nose. He knocked the leader off of his feet and May leaped onto the man's chest, crossing her blades right over his neck. She only stopped an inch before his skin; Harshal felled the dim-witted bandit who squinted at the tip of Morrigan's staff.

"All right! We surrender! We're just trying to get by before the darkspawn get us all!" the bandit exclaimed and May snorted while glaring at him.

"Trying to get by? You're a criminal!" Alistair spat at him.

"Yes, I'm a criminal. I admit it, I apologise."

"Apologise? You think that's going to suffice?" he asked.

"Hand over everything you have stolen," May hissed dangerously low.

"Yes... yes of course! The coins we have collected are right here! Just over a hundred silvers... the rest is in the chests we brought. I swear!" May's eyes turned into slits as she bent down to him, her lips nearly brushed his ear as she spoke to him.

"Run, shem. And don't. Come. Back." She leaped off of him, the deadly glare still on his face while he quickly got to his feet.

"B-bless you... the darkspawn can have this place." The two surviving bandits turned tail and fled. Morrigan scoffed as she poked a corpse with her staff.

"You should've killed them," the witch stated, but Maylea ignored her and looked on Harshal instead.

"Show them that we mean it." The dog barked and then dashed off, giving chase to the two survivors. May looked around but didn't take anything from the pile that they had stolen. Her gaze fell on a corpse next to one of the crates. He wore strange clothing, something she recalled seeing at Ostagar. The men that had watched the mages wore things like that. How had Morrigan called them? Templars? A crumpled note peeked out of one of his pockets and curiosity got her to take it. It said something about Redcliffe; perhaps she should show it to Alistair, but the way he looked right now...  
>Morrigan already went ahead and stopped at the ramp that led down from the Highway. Harshal came back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gave the Dalish a doggy grin. She already loved that dog. Alistair trotted after them, obviously still lost in his thoughts. Seeing how chatty he had been at Ostagar and how he behaved now, he actually had her worried.<p>

"Well... here it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting." The sudden decision to speak again surprised both of the women, though Morrigan seemed to recover faster than May could.

"Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?"

"Is my being upset so hard to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Unseen of both Lea flinched and looked away; her own wound long wasn't healed.

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" Morrigan shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked."

"Creators, please... leave him alone Morrigan," May said silently and looked at the witch pleadingly.

"But how can I? He is right there, speaking; eyes wide like those of a brainless calf!" The witch crossed her arms in front of her chest and cocked a brow at the elf before shooting a dark glare at Alistair.

"Oh, I get it. This is the part where we are shocked to discover how you never had a friend your entire life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to, alas... desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."  
>Maylea simply looked at Morrigan; for a woman who claimed to be mature she acted rather childish.<p>

"Anyway... I think we should talk about where we intent to go first," Alistair said, pointedly ignoring Morrigan and fixing his gaze on Maylea.

Said elf had sat down and leant against the stone railing behind her. Harshal took the advantage to snuffle in her ear before he gave her cheek a quick lick. Lightly irritated she gave him a shove and he sat down next to her. Lost in thoughts she chewed on her lower lip. Where to go first? The dwarfs? Creators, that sounded like a good idea, bringing the most frightening part behind themselves sounded like a plan. But what else? Asha'bellanar had said they should gather an army, Alistair himself had said the treaties were meant for the dwarfs, the mages _**and**_ the Dalish. Looking for the latter was another matter. She longed to see her Clan again, though she wasn't gone for long she felt sick without them. But she didn't want to bring her shadows to what was left of her family.

"Maylea?" Alistair asked carefully and her eyes snapped up to him. Back at Ostagar she had scared him; nearly killing an officer without the use of any weapons was bound to leave an impression. But after the Joining her dark green eyes had lost the cold cover when she looked at him. Now she seemed so distant and the cold had returned. He fought hard not to make a step back as she looked at him. Though as soon as she noticed how uncomfortable her gaze made him the cold disappeared and he relaxed.

"Have you looked at the treaties?" he asked and she shook her head.

"You carry them and I'm not going to touch your belongings," she replied and he shortly bit his lip.

Again he reminded her of... quickly she shoved the thought aside before it could hurt her further. "You know we have treaties for dwarfs, mages..."

"And the Dalish, I know," she interrupted and then rubbed her forehead. "Abelas, I didn't mean to be rude. Though we need a place where we will start," she said and he nodded.

"I still think our best option will be Arl Eamon, and Redcliffe isn't far..." he trailed off and looked into the sky, while Lea turned her head and looked questioningly at Morrigan.

"If you ask me, I'd say go straight for that traitor Loghain," the witch said and the elf bared her teeth. The idea was tempting, but still...

"No. We would never reach him," she decided and Morrigan shrugged.

"You wanted my opinion."

"And you told it. In this case I think it's unwise," May said slowly and then stood up. She placed her hand lightly on Alistair's arm and he looked at her, his gaze still a bit clouded.

"Hm?" he asked and the elf frowned.

"You know I don't know about how you shemlen interact with each other, but is there a place where you exchange with others? Where you chat?" He seemed confused.

"Uh, yes... that would be the tavern. Why?"

"Perhaps we should go there and listen to what people say. We don't know what happened after Loghain's betrayal, and I don't like the idea of running around blindly," she suggested.

"I guess we can go there, yes. When we went down to Ostagar we came through here, there had been only one Tavern, as far as I can recall," Alistair stated.

"Then it's set," May decided and he gave a nod. Much to his displeasure the elf turned and looked at Morrigan.

"Can you buy supplies? I have no idea how one trades, I wasn't allowed to do so. And you are human, they should take you seriously." For a moment the witch seemed to consider it, but then she nodded. "I guess I can handle that, probably better than both of you." Only Alistair seemed to be rubbed the wrong way with her statement, Maylea remained unimpressed. Quite the contrary.

"Ma serannas, Morrigan." The relieved smile she wore let the witch look away, she felt uncomfortable to be the one to receive gratitude.

"Just make your trip quick," she said while she took the coins Alistair handed her, before she turned and walked into the village. He watched her with an irritated frown, but as soon as she disappeared out of sight the mask he had worn since they left Flemeth's hut returned. May knew the look, she was pretty sure she had looked exactly the same as Duncan had taken her away from her family.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked quietly and his head snapped into her direction.

"Pardon?" he asked and she repeated her question.

"Do you want to talk about it? About Duncan?"

He flinched. "You don't have to do that, you know. You didn't know him as long as I did..."

To her it seemed like he was trying to avoid it and she looked away, the pain in his eyes was too much for her to bear. Instead she looked over the village in front of them.

"He was like a father to you. I understand."

She didn't need to see the look on his face, the way he spoke was enough for her to feel his sadness.

"I should handle it better. Duncan warned me from the beginning that this could happen. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight... and everything. I'm sorry." A sad smile tugged at Maylea's lips. Grief and Sorrow weren't things one should apologise for. Arrogance and ignorance, yes, but mourning the loss of someone dear to your heart... no.

"There... there is no need to apologise," she choked out and shortly looked up into his face.

"I... I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done... If we're still alive... As far as I know he had no family," he mumbled more to himself and she felt the need to cheer him up.

"He had you," the elf offered and a humourless short laugh escaped him.

"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but a part of me wishes I had been with him, in the battle. It feels like I abandoned him." May felt grief hacking its claws into her heart, she understood him too well.

"He saved your life by sending you to the tower." Even to herself her voice sounded hollow.

"Yes. I know. I think he came from Highever. Or so he said. Maybe I'll go there sometime. Putting up something in his honour. The Dalish do not practise cremation, right? How do you people honour your dead?"

She couldn't bear to look at him, not with all the memories the conversation had stirred up. Stubborn, she blinked some tears away and tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. Then she turned her gaze up into the sky.

"We bury them." It came out as a mere whisper. She swallowed again. "We bury them and plant a tree over their remains."

"That sounds quite beautiful. New life springing from death," his voice had turned soft and now she turned to look at him.

"Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little."

She shortly frowned, "Maybe I'll go with you... to Highever," she silently said.

"I'd like that. So would he, I think." For a short moment she could picture Duncan in front of her inner eye with a small smile, but the image disappeared as fast as it had popped up.

"I don't mean to pry, but... have you lost someone dear to you?" His voice was guarded, as was his expression. Anyone else and she would've shouted angrily, but something about this Shem made her pause. Her inner voice _whispered 'He's still a child in many ways... do not judge him too harsh... he's different, you can see it...'_ and she bit her lip. She knew her eyes were showing all the pain she felt and gave a curt nod.

"Yes... in more ways than you might imagine."

"Oh... I... I'm sorry..." he quickly said and looked so helpless. Now she knew how Hahren Paivel or Master Ilen must have felt when she was a little girl. She smiled, even if it was a sad smile.

"Don't apologise. You cannot know what I haven't told. If it hurts me, it is my own fault," May fought to keep her composure, then she turned to walk down the second ramp and he quickly followed, nearly bumping into Harshal while doing so.

"I... uh... do you... want to talk about it? I mean you listened to me... and... But I understand if you don't want... it's alright..." he babbled and blushed. _'Great, embarrass yourself even more, will you?' _he scolded himself but the look she gave him made him pause.

"Maybe someday, Alistair. If I'm healed enough I will take you up on your offer." A short click with her tongue and Harshal trotted down to her, bumping his nose against her side.

"We will look around, stay close," she said and Harshal barked once before he looked at Alistair, almost as if to say 'Come on! Move already!'  
>"Look at all those people. The despair..." Alistair broke off and looked around. They ignored the Templar who told them it would be wiser to move on since none of them thought about staying here longer than needed.<br>"Am I allowed to ask you something?" he asked and looked at her curiously.

"Depends... what's the question?" May asked back.

You said something elfish... when you beat up that officer... what does it mean ?" First she seemed confused, but then it dawned to her.

"Ah, you mean that." He looked at her expectantly and she frowned, "Um... that wasn't exactly nice. I insulted him in the heaviest way I could."

"I thought as much. To be honest it didn't even sound like it came from this side of the veil," he mumbled and she looked at him confused.

"You sounded more like a demon."

"I... I felt like one, actually. I heard this voice in my head, speaking to the dark parts of my being." Alistair looked at her and then sighed.  
>"If I'm allowed to be honest to you, I feared that you wouldn't make it. I saw my share of tainted people, and none of them would have been able to think for themselves in such a state."<br>This time he saw her flinch and wondered what had happened to her.

"Without my Keeper I would be dead," she said silently, "As I should be."  
>Harshal decided it would be a good moment to distract them and let out a bark before he dashed off. "Harshal!" she called out and then ran after him.<p>

"May! Maker's breath!" and Alistair followed as well. The Mabari ran through the village and then stopped dead in front of a cage.  
>"Harshal! You cannot run off like that!" she scolded the dog and then looked at the cage and froze. She was used to not being tall, even with her own kind she wasn't tall – Merrill had two inches more height than herself – but next to that... thing... she felt like a dwarf.<p>

"You are not one of my captors. I have nothing to say that will amuse you, elf. Leave me in peace." Forgetting about proper behaviour she stared up at the... man?

"What are you?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm a prisoner. I'm in a cage, am I not?" his voice was calm but annoyance showed no less.

"I didn't mean that. I can see that you're locked away. I was referring to your... lineage? Your kind?" Maylea couldn't recall that she ever saw something like him.

"I am Sten of the Beresaad, the Vanguard of the Qunari peoples."

She chewed on the information. During the last Arlathvhen she had heard the word 'Qunari', though she didn't know what it meant. "I am Maylea, pleased to meet you. And how did you end up here?" She didn't care whether she was rude or not, not right now anyway. He seemed to be so much stronger than any Shem could ever be, yet he remained there in this cage. Surely there would have been a way to escape already.

"You mock me. Or you show manners I have not come to expect in these lands. Though it matters little now, I will die soon enough. I have been placed here by the Chantry," he replied honestly.

May turned to look at Alistair who simply shrugged.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us." And with that he mouthed her thoughts.

"I suggest you leave me to my fate," Sten interrupted. But Maylea wasn't going to give up so easily. He seemed to be a proud warrior, and shouldn't be locked up like an animal.

"What did you do to end up in here?" she asked confused.

"I have been convicted of murder. Have the villagers not spoken of this?" he asked briskly and she looked at him angrily.

"I'm not gossiping with Shemlen," she spat out, unaware that Alistair flinched behind her. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Neither Sten nor Alistair deserved her anger.

"If I might ask, whom did you murder?" she could already tell the answer would shock her.

"The people of a farm hold, eight humans in addition to the children," he stated, his voice devoid of any emotion. She blinked as his answer settled into her mind.

"That's... horrible," she choked out.

"I agree," again there was this stoic calmness.  
>She looked at Alistair, but his face seemed blank. Harshal on the other hand was another matter. He had sat down and tilted his head while looking intently at the Qunari. He didn't seem frightened, as far as she could tell he seemed relaxed.<p>

'_Staying mad at others is easy, da'len. Forgiving is harder, but no less you should try.'_ Hahren Paivel's voice echoed through her head, though back then as he told her he had meant someone else, in this particular case it had been Junar. This didn't change the fact that he was right.

"Are you interested in seeking atonement?" she asked him and Sten sounded final.

"Death will be my atonement."

"There are other ways to redeem yourself," she argued back, which seemed to give him pause.

"Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?"

"You could help us defend the land against the Blight," she suggested.

"The Blight?" The way he said it, nearly shouted it, made both the Wardens look at him in question.

"Are you Grey Wardens then?" Sten asked and May looked at Alistair again, who gave a curt nod.

"Yes," she replied shortly.

"Surprising. My people have heard legends about the Warden's strength and skill, though I suppose not every legend is true."

May frowned at his statement but turned to look at her fellow Warden again.

"Who do we need to speak to, if we want him freed?" she asked.

"The Revered Mother, though I can imagine her answer already," Alistair muttered while he eyed the giant warily.

"I'm not going to accept a 'no'," May retorted and he laughed out.

"There is no need to accept it. We're Wardens, which means we can use the Right of Conscription," he said that so matter-of-factly that she cocked a brow at him.

"I still have a lot to learn, don't I?" she asked and he winked at her with a grin. "Maybe later, at camp." A smile tugged at her lips, seeing her own words used against her. Then she turned back to Sten.

"Would the Revered Mother set you free?" she asked.

"Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my help. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here," the Qunari stated dryly. Maylea had to give him credit for staying as calm as he did.

"I will see what I can do. I will leave you for now," she said and shortly dipped her head.

"Farewell, then. My thanks, elf."

Alistair led her back into the village and stopped right in front of an imposing building. The Dalish felt intimidated by its size and built. Before she could say anything to him nearby shouting drew their attention.

"That's a Chasind. What's he doing?" Alistair asked silently and May's eyes narrowed.

"He's scaring them, wait a moment." He didn't go with her and waited. Watching her was quite interesting. She didn't speak loud or with her hands, yet she was intimidating. The way her eyes could shoot daggers was enough to give him the chills. Maker preserve that he'll ever be the one receiving these looks. Shortly after the Chasind disappeared crying and the gathered mass of people dissolved. Rolling her eyes she came back to him.

"What did you do? Curse them?" he asked with a snicker and she shook her head.

"No. Shooed the Chasind away and urged the rest to do something. Creators... I'm helping humans," she sighed miserably and clasped her hands over her face while shaking her head.

"Is that so bad?" he asked and tried to hide the hurt in his voice.

"If you'd know..." she mumbled under her breath and then straightened up. "Well, let's go in then."

But the visit within these walls was rather short for Maylea. She shoved the note and the locket she had taken from the dead Templar to Alistair – after her not-so-nice talk with the Revered Mother – and stormed out of the building. She paced up and down angrily, cursing violently under her breath. After wishing the Dread Wolf on her trail for the sixth time Alistair left the building as well.

"How can you look for guidance in such stubborn old fools?" she asked angrily and he cocked a brow at her.

"Well... I could've told you that intimidating won't be wise," he replied amused.

"I wasn't!" she shouted at him and then closed her eyes and led her head hung. "I failed, right?" she asked and he snickered.

"You got the key without your use of weapons. I'd say you've shown me that you need some practise in interacting with my kind."

"Ugh," was her only reply, causing him to laugh even harder.

"Let's put that to work. Come on, we still have a tavern to visit," he chuckled and nudged her lightly at the shoulder. She shot him a dark glare and he winked.

"Qunari. First. Now." she choked out and stomped off, while Alistair followed her still snickering. Harshal bounced around May but stopped as he got her mood, and let himself fall behind. Alistair gave the dog a scratch and then they strolled towards the cage.

Sten just left it and grabbed one of the swords Morrigan held. Wait... Morrigan?

"'twas easy to find you. The whole village is gossiping about you," she said and looked down on the elf with an amused smirk.

"Wait until you hear what sacrilege else I committed," Maylea hissed through gritted teeth and then the witch bent down to ask her something. As the short and whispered conversation was done, Morrigan laughed out in delight.

"You, Warden, are definitely worth staying around!" Neither Maylea nor Sten seemed to be pleased about her exclamation.

"I hate to interrupt your private moment, but there's a tavern to visit," Alistair interjected and received three unfriendly glares. But they knew he was right.

The tavern was full, really crowded, but as soon as they caught sight of the giant Qunari all conversations stopped dead.

"I don't like it here," Maylea mumbled and took half a step back, nearly bumping into Sten.

"Well... look what we have here, men. I think we just have been blessed." A heavy armoured man stepped towards them and shot glares at Alistair and the elf.

"Uh-oh... Loghain's men... this can't be good," Alistair mumbled and May frowned.

"Didn't we spent the whole morning asking about two persons by this very description and everyone said they hadn't seen them?" Another armoured man spoke up.

"It seems we were lied to."

May scanned the room and noticed even more soldiers.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge," a red haired woman interrupted and stepped towards them. The elf recognised the robes right away and gritted her teeth. Alistair noticed and moved himself a bit forward to shield the woman, should Maylea decide to jump at her.

"They are more than that. Now stay out of our way, sister. If you'll protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."  
>"Traitors? We are no traitors!" Alistair growled and the red haired woman turned to look at him.<br>"Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king. Haven't you heard?"  
>"Enough talk! Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets into your way." "Right, let's make this quick."<p>

They charged immediately, but this time Alistair was faster than the Dalish and threw himself at their obvious leader, his features twisted in anger. The man stood no chance against the Warden's wrath and Maylea saw with bitter satisfaction how Alistair pummelled the soldier, but too fast it was over. The Qunari simply lifted the hopping mad Warden off of the helpless soldier, before he could disgrace himself further in his eyes.

"Alright... we surrender..." the man wailed and his men dragged him back to his feet. "We surrender..."

"Good. They've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now," Again the redhead spoke up and May snarled.

"The Grey Wardens didn't betray King Cailan. Loghain did," Alistair growled and fought against the restraining Qunari hand on his shoulder.

"I was there! The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap!" The beaten soldier spat back and Alistair bared his teeth.  
>"The Teyrn left the King to die!" he roared, not caring that the entire tavern gaped at them now.<br>"The Wardens led the King to his death! The Teyrn could do nothing!" They stared at each other heatedly until May's voice broke the silence.

"Take a message to your Teyrn," she said and stared coldly at the soldier.  
>"W-what do you want to tell him?" he asked and flinched away from the Dalish's stare.<br>"The Grey Wardens know what really happened."  
>"Y-yes. I will tell him... right away. Now." At a nod of his head his men helped him out of the tavern and away. Alistair clenched and unclenched his fists, his face still a mask of anger, but at least Sten released him out of his grip.<br>"I apologise for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by," the redhead said.

"And who are _**you**_ anyhow?" May hissed and heard Morrigan snicker darkly behind her.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering. Or I was." She wore exactly the same robes as the old shrew within the pompous building.

"And is there something you wanted from us?" the elf asked unfriendly and could swear that she heard another amused sound from the witch.

"Those men said you are Grey Wardens. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do. I know after all that happened you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." The confidence in her voice fuelled the hunter's smouldering hatred towards humans, it was the same arrogance they received everywhere they went.

"I'm sorry sister... but you are very mistaken," she hissed but the woman didn't mind.

"Oh, I thought you might say that. But you see, the Maker wants me to join you."

"Um... right. I believe this is when I back away slowly," May didn't know much about the humans and their beliefs, but she did know that their god had abandoned them just like the Creators had left the elves. And neither gods communicated with any of their creations. Surely this woman was mentally..._touched_, as Hahren Paivel would've said it.

"I know that sounds absolutely insane, but it's true. I had a dream, a vision," Leliana seemed to get desperate.

"More crazy? I thought we were all full up," Alistair mumbled and earned a whack on the head from Morrigan with her staff. He hissed a silent "ow" and shot her a glare while rubbing the back of his head.  
>"Look at the people here... they are lost in their despair. And this darkness, this chaos will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help."<p>

Involuntarily May curled up her upper lip and bared her teeth. She couldn't care less about their _Maker_. "You feel sorry for the people? Help them here," she spat and turned to leave.

"Then what? What happens when the Horde comes? It will follow anywhere we flee until all we know is destroyed!" Leliana made a step towards her and reached out her hand, but knew better than to touch the elf.

"We need more than prayers, I'm afraid," May said coldly and shot her a glare.

"I can fight. I can more than fight. As I said I haven't always been a lay sister. I put aside that life when I came here, but now... if it is the Maker's will... I will take it up again, gladly. Please let me help you!" she pleaded but May only stared at her.

"We don't need your help, _**sister**_." The elf said acidly and went towards the door.

"But I... alright. I will go. For now. It's not important that you believe what I say, only that you serve the Maker in the end. Think about it please, that is all I ask," Leliana looked sad but Maylea didn't care.

They hurriedly left the tavern and both Wardens let off steam as soon as they were outside. Sten stood like a statue and watched them without any emotion; Harshal sat down next to him and whined curiously, only Morrigan seemed to be pleased. The elf cursed violently in her native tongue while she paced up and down and Alistair growled under his breath and kicked some pebbles aside.

"'tis rather funny to watch you two making fools out of yourself in front of everyone here, but I think we should decide what to do from now on," Morrigan said with an amused smirk.

"Let's get out of this village; the sheer amount of humans is making me sick," May growled and again Alistair shortly flinched painfully.

"Then let us take leave," the witch said and turned away. With a sigh the elf followed her, Sten, Harshal and Alistair trailing behind them.

As the Imperial Highway was already in sight they met Leliana again.

"Hello again. So will you let me help you? Will you let me come?" she asked brightly and May barely resisted the urge to slap her hand over her eyes and shake her head.

"Creators... not you again," she sighed.

"I'll be honest, when I heard about the darkspawn I felt something urging me to leave my sheltered live in the cloister and do something. Anything. And then the vision, it cannot be coincidence that you were brought here so soon after I was called by the Maker."

"Her plea seems wholehearted. And even though she seems a little... strange... she does have skill. I vote to let her come along," Alistair muttered and May heaved a sigh.

"Alistair... she is one Archdemon short of a Blight," she said and he grinned.

"Yes, but she seems more 'Oh! Pretty colours!' than 'mwhahaha! I'm Princess Stabbitty, stab, kill, kill'."

May couldn't help but snicker at that and shook her head.

"Very well, if you insist," she gave in and hoped it wouldn't come back to bite her in the a...

"Thank you! I won't let you down, I promise!" Leliana beamed and May looked tiredly at Alistair who only grinned and shrugged.

As they set foot on the Imperial Highway they spotted a pair of dwarfs who were attacked by a Vanguard of darkspawn. They quickly killed them and after a short conversation with the dwarves they marched on.

"So, where are we going?" Leliana asked happily and May rolled her eyes.

"We're going to Redcliffe," she stated and Alistair cocked a brow.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd go there first. What brought this up?"

"The fact that Loghain is telling lies about us. You said this Arl is popular with your kind, so if he can tell them that this Teyrn is spilling lies it'll probably keep them off of our back."

It sounded reasonable and he wasn't about to argue with her, not since he wanted to go there first himself.

"So... you said this Arl Eamon raised you?" May asked Alistair silently as they had left Lothering behind.

"Did I say that? I mean dogs raised me, giant slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact." The amused twinkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed and May fought back a smirk. This human was definitely nothing like the others.

"That would explain the smell," she retorted and he snickered.

"Well, it wasn't until I was eight that I discovered that you didn't have to lick yourself clean. Old habits die hard you know." As he looked at her he tried to stay serious, but the corners of his mouth gave him away.

"That would explain the breath as well then," May was proud on how serious she sounded, though laughter threatened to spill out.

"And my table manners too. Though come to think of it, they weren't all that different from the other Templars. Or did I dream all of that? Funny the dreams you'll have when you sleep on cold hard ground, isn't it? Are you having strange dreams?" Suddenly all the amusement she had felt died away and she looked on the ground in front of her feet.

"Yes," was all that she said and he sighed inwardly. Again he managed to have her shy away when he thought he'd finally get her to open up a bit.

"Let's see, how do I explain this? I'm a bastard. And before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon took me in and put a roof over my head. He wasn't my father and he was very good to me, though he didn't have to be. I respect the man and I don't blame him anymore for sending me off to the Chantry once I was old enough."

The elf tried to picture him in the same suits and armour like the Templars she had just seen today, the way they acted and everything, but it didn't fit together with the image she had of him. She shook her head and then frowned while looking up at him.

"But you blamed him back then?"

"I was young, resentful and not very pious. Of course I blamed him. I remember screaming at him like a little child. Well, I was a child, so I doubt he was surprised. Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him and the King since it was so soon after the war, but he loved her. The new Arlessa resented the rumours which pegged me as his bastard. They weren't true, but they existed. The Arl didn't care, but she did. So off I was packed off to the nearest monastery at the age ten. She made it very clear in every way that the Castle wasn't a home to me anymore. She despised me."

Again May shook her head.

"Amongst my people no child is left out in the rain. It doesn't matter if you're Dalish or a flat-ear, if you've lost your parents the whole Clan is there for you. Even for all the cruelty your kind is famous for, that surely is an awful thing to do to a child."

"She felt threatened by my existence, I know that now. She surely wondered if the rumours were true, I bet. I remember I had an amulet, with Andraste's holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother's. I was so furious that I was sent away that I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do. The Arl came by the Monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was too stubborn to talk to him, I hated it there, and eventually he stopped coming."

"You were a child," May said and he shrugged.

"And raised by dogs, or I could as well have been, the way I acted. All I know is that the Arl is a good man and well loved by the people. He also was King Cailan's uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see justice to Loghain."

Maylea fell silent and thought about what he had told her. As far as she had seen humans lacked compassion towards her own kind, so their advantage surely must lie in their numbers. To her it was impossible to imagine how a child could be treated like Alistair had just described to her.

As soon as they had set up camp Maylea peeled herself out of her armour. She piled it neatly in the front area of her tent before she changed into her good old worn deer leather pants and a simple shirt. And most important of all: no boots! Feeling the earth under her bare feet was more than just soothing. She took her father's journal and then headed back to the fire. They had already eaten – Bodahn and Sandal had joined them no less – and now most of them retreated for the evening. May shut out every noise and picked up reading where she stopped before Lothering. There wasn't much left of his writings and she couldn't stop reading. She had learned much about how the Clan got together, the routes they moved and how he had met her mother. Lost in thoughts she had pulled out her mother's keepsake from under her shirt and trailed her fingers lazily in circles over it while she read.

"You look sad." Alistair's voice ripped her out of her thoughts and she looked at him confused.

"What?" she asked bemused.

"I said you look sad," he repeated and she shortly smiled.

"Not entirely, more lost in thoughts, actually." She put her bookmark into her father's journal and closed it carefully.

"You are reading this since we left Flemeth," he stated and she nodded.

"Yes. I didn't realise you noticed. You didn't seem to pay much attention before Lothering."

He looked into the fire and searched for some witty reply, but he couldn't find any.

"I had been the same... as Duncan brought me to Ostagar," she muttered with a frown and looked at the fire.

"How was life for you?" he asked softly. He was curious, he couldn't imagine how…

"Hard but good," she said with the pride back in her eyes. "We are free; we roam in places no human dares to go."

"I didn't mean how your people would say it. I mean how **you** experienced it," he clarified and the thoughtful look returned to her face.

"It had been perfect. Though I grew up without my parents no child is ever left alone. I had a foster mother – Ashalle – who took good care of me. The whole Clan sees to it that an orphan is raised and educated properly. So I never felt like I was missing something. We are constantly moving, for our own safety. When I was younger I didn't understand the reason behind it… but a few years ago I learned the hard way why. We move in areas where humans are few; we even travel in the outskirts of the Korcari Wilds two times a year."

"Really? But isn't it creepy there?" he interjected and she shook her head.

"It is… hard to explain. I only eavesdropped on a few hushed conversations about Asha'bellanar and how she influences everything in the Wilds."

"Asha-what?" he asked and she looked at him as if he had two heads.

"Asha'bellanar, Flemeth, Morrigan's mother. My people have many stories about her. To be honest, we only know of two other Dalish Clans who move around there, one even deeper in the Wilds than any of us would dare to go. The constant mist is something to get you the chills, that's right, but there were never animals that would attack us. And the Chasind are easily avoided, if necessary. Not that they would dare to attack us, no. In fact they occasionally help us and we even trade with them."

For a long while they sat there in silence. May was in her thoughts, back with her Clan, in the good times with Tamlen. Even thinking his name, recalling his face, everything that reminded her of him hurt. She felt his Enansal weighing her down, burning on her skin and she reached up to lightly touch it through the fabric of her shirt while tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Why him? Again it was Alistair's soft voice that brought her back.

"You spoke of an incident, a few years ago. What was it?" he asked and she froze. He saw her tense and cursed himself for prying. But she remained silent. She couldn't tell him, not now, not yet... maybe never. With one fluid motion she stood up and looked at him, the small braids that usually held her hair were undone and it hang like a black curtain around her face.

"You should sleep, Alistair. I'll take the first watch."

With that she headed over to the place Harshal had chosen for the night and sat down next to her Mabari. She waited until she heard light snoring from behind before she let her façade crumble and she started to cry. Harshal sat up and nudged her shoulder gently with his nose; a low whine escaped his muzzle as he gave her cheek a lick. She flung her arms around him and buried her face in the fur of his neck and cried until she had no more tears to shed. Everything came back, crushed down on her. She was alone in a world she didn't understand, without a link back, without a chance of going back and what hurt her most was Tamlen's loss.

She closed her eyes and could see him, the way he smiled, the way his eyes seemed to twinkle whenever he got the chance to tease Junar, the way he had looked when he had received his Vallaslin, the way he pouted when he was to stay at camp while she got to go hunting and the last image that burned itself into her very core: the way he had looked at her as she had accepted his proposal. She choked a wail before she would wake the whole camp. She would face the Dread Wolf himself to get him back, but there was no way of doing so, she knew that. Grief and sorrow pulled at her heart and she fought hard to clear her mind.

"Abelas, Harshal. I didn't mean to lose it," she mumbled and he gave her face another lick before tilting his head and giving her a doggy grin.

"You're a gift of the Creators." The rest of her watch she kept her mind focused on her actual problem, the Blight. As it was time for the change of shift she decided she'd rather face the Qunari than her fellow Warden. Sten merely gave her a nod as she said it's his time to take watch and exhausted she went into her tent. She curled herself up in her bedroll and tried to sleep, but sleep didn't come. Shortly later she heard snuffling sounds and scratching in front of her tent and opened the flaps. Harshal was looking at her and with a sigh she patted her bedroll and he crawled in, plopping down next to her and exhaling a content sigh. With his warmth near it was easier for her to push away the nasty thoughts and finally she fell asleep. This night the nightmares avoided her and for that she was grateful. But crying out her eyes each night wasn't a solution either. And in the morning she paid the price.

Her eyes were swollen and ached as the first light hit them. Groaning she clasped her hand over her eyes while she shoved Harshal off of her legs and left her tent. Ignoring Leliana and Alistair she walked up to Morrigan's tent. The witch was already busy and cocked a brow at the approaching elf curiously.

"Morrigan, may I ask you something?" she mumbled and the witch stood up.

"You already did. But you may do so again."

"Do you have any herbs that could help me with this?" She lifted her hand a bit and Morrigan frowned.

"I have a salve that will help. What did you do? Rub your face in hot ashes?"

"I wish it was something like that," Lea grumbled but Morrigan didn't ask further. The witch applied a bit of her salve around the elf's eyes and the stinging nearly vanished immediately.

"Ma serannas, Morrigan." The woman only cleared her throat and mumbled something unintelligible under her breath while shooing the Dalish away.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry that it took this long to upload, but RL is busy at the moment. Thanks agai to Lakme who's my live-saving beta :)

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><p>The next two days Maylea kept to herself. She didn't want to be mean to Alistair, Creators no, but their talk and his innocent question brought up too many things she'd rather forget. Since she behaved mostly quiet and stoic Harshal trotted alongside Alistair who at least seemed to notice him. Leliana and Alistair had been prattling on and on about the Chantry and the life there and even if May didn't want to admit it, many of her questions were answered while she listened to them.<br>Morrigan had decided to walk as rear guard, behind the dwarves and their cart, since it was the only way to avoid the constantly talking red haired lay sister. The Qunari walked silently at the front next to the elf and after a while they talked silently with each other. On the third day of their journey May felt exhausted. They had walked many miles, until even she felt too tired to move and when they attempted to put up camp they encountered a vanguard of the darkspawn. In order to prevent Leliana from coming in contact with their tainted blood May had gotten herself injured which only added to her grumpiness.  
>After that battle – and said Dalish's stubborn refusal to be treated – they walked on until nightfall before they actually set up camp. Cursing in her own tongue she had bandaged her wounds herself and refused to talk to anybody.<br>During her watch it had started to rain and as she finally escaped the constant assault of water from above the nightmares that had evaded her for the last three days came back with a force that left her breathless.

_The marching horde faded quickly, only the whispered commands from the Archdemon remained as her dream shifted. She was back in the Brecilian Forest and stumbled through the woods. She wasn't sure whether she was fleeing or looking for something. Then she saw corpses, three to be accurate and stopped. She knew that faces… and then she remembered. They were the three Shemlen she and Tamlen had met in the woods while they were out hunting; they were the reason why the Clan was forced to move earlier than planned. But they didn't kill them... Panic gripped her heart. She was being left behind!  
>Following a nearly invisible trail she ran on, not paying attention to anything she passed but the trail that lead on. In the distance she could hear the squeaks of dry joints of the Aravel and the muffled voices of her Clan Members as they continued to sing for the dead. She wanted to shout that she was still here, living and breathing, but the only sound that left her lips was a horrible shriek. She snapped her mouth shut and looked on her hands. Her veins were black and her skin looked like generations-old leather. She shook with tears and sank to her knees. Then she heard the voice again. <em>

"_Get up, Lethallan, don't stop fighting it. I beg you, you must… for the sake of us all…" Tamlen. May shot back up onto her feet and looked around. The forest suddenly seemed too bright and too full with noise that it hurt both her eyes and her ears. _

"_Where are you?" she shouted past the pain and then she felt something brush past her. For a moment the presence alone brought silence. _

"_We are both left behind in the shadows, Lethallan, and you are the only one who can fight." His voice was near but it sounded distant. _

"_You are a hunter like I am. You have always been stronger, why do I need to fight alone?" her question came out in an angry hiss and she hated herself for it. She loved Tamlen; he shouldn't suffer under her anger. _

"_I can't help you… I'm a mere shadow, someone who can't pick up a bow or sword." It was a sad statement and she looked around to find him. She wanted nothing more than to hug him close and never let him go. _

"_I have failed you, I pray to Falon'Din every night since that incident… I am so sorry, Lethallin," she choked out and heard a sigh. _

"_I long to see him, but I'm blinded, and he cannot find me. Hopefully some day he will and I will gladly follow him. Go, emma lath, but do not follow the Clan. You need to go into the darkness; you need to strike the evil that lingers there. Please, do it for me, emma sa'lath." Then his voice was gone and she looked at something tainted, the skin as dark and withered like hers, without hair but… with markings. She stood there frozen to the core as she realized who she was looking at. It was her love, the man she dreamt about spending her life with, the one she had lost through that cursed mirror. The pleading look in his eyes, the Vallaslin on his face, it was him. Though she was shocked to see him like that she wanted him to stay, but as something in her expression changed he turned and ran away. She tried to follow and started to run as fast as she could, but then something grabbed her and hauled her backwards. The stench of rot and decay burned in her nose, the tingling sensation in her mind blinded her from everything and then the darkspawn started to tear her apart, limb by limb and the only thing she did was shouting his name. "TAMLEN!"_

Maylea woke with a start. The tent flap was open and Harshal sat outside, next to Alistair. Both looked worried, and the fact that she sat there with her head between her knees didn't help to ease or shrug off their worries.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked worried and she shook her head.

"Nae."

"Maylea…" he started, but she cut him short.

"Nae, Alistair." Just now she realized that she still was crying. "What a pathetic hunter I am," she mumbled to herself and angrily rubbed her face. She left her tent and blinked into the sky. Sunrise wasn't far now and the rest of the camp still seemed to sleep. Alistair watched her warily and stubborn she looked away.

"Harshal fled as you started tossing around, he showed me that something was wrong with you." The dog whimpered and crawled towards her, flat on his belly. She shot him a glare, but then sighed and scratched him behind his ears. The elf tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace.  
>"Tamlen... You called the name often during the last nights."Alistair's voice sounded factual and a humourless smile toyed with her lips. Morrigan did him wrong, he was far from a dim-wit.<p>

"You love him." Another statement. Both were staring into the fire and as May didn't say anything he nodded to himself.  
>"You don't understand," she merely whispered. Harshal let out a whimper and tilted his head.<p>

"Then explain it to me!" The elf gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She tried to calm herself before she looked at him. The look in her eyes sent chills down his spine.

"There are things one cannot talk about. Don't tell me you have no secrets; things you are not willing to share." The way she spoke he felt like she had slapped him, before she turned on her heels and marched away.

"'tis time we move on, elf," Morrigan said as she approached her. Her escape had brought her to a small stream where she sat down on a rock and watched the water.

"This annoying red-head wanted to break down your tent, but your bloody mongrel keeps her at bay."

"Abelas, I'm on my way." Without looking at her she rose and turned towards the camp.

"If you need to run the wilds, elf, you know where to find me," The witch said and May's eyes locked gaze with hers; green orbs meeting golden ones. Then she gave a nod and went to break down her tent.  
>Only a few minutes later they were back on the road and May stuck to Sten like his shadow. During the last days his behaviour towards her had changed a bit. Most of the questions that were asked he simply ignored and glared at the asking person until said person shied away, but May's were answered honestly.<p>

"You would fit in with the Qunari," he said and looked down at her. "All who know their place live well amongst us."

"You have a point, Sten. I'll give you that."

"You are different than the Imekari you are travelling with, though you are not very wise... having a Bas Saarebas without a leash."

"I guess the way your people and mine look at the use of magic is different," she said soberly and he snorted.

"You don't have proper civilized attitudes towards the use of magic. It is a weapon and one must be skilled in wielding it." The Dalish let out a short bark-like laugh.

"One cannot choose as what one is born, you said that yourself. The fact that that one is born with magic lies not in our hands as well, and the gift runs in all races of the world. Well, nearly all. As far as we know the Durgen'len are all without this gift." Sten remained silent, but the slight change in his eyes showed her that he was thinking.

"You give me something to consider, elf."  
>Maylea liked him around, though he mostly was silent or perhaps especially because of that. If he spoke it sounded profound, she noticed, even though she didn't agree with everything, nor did she understand everything.<p>

Around noon Redcliffe Castle came into sight and Alistair got nervous. They stopped for a break but a strange disquiet caught the whole group. Bodahn decided he and Sandal would wait a while back until the group would return.

"Maylea... uh... can we talk for a moment?" Alistair asked nervously and she nodded.

"Yes. Speak your mind."

"I need to tell you something. I... uh... probably should have told you earlier." He looked uncomfortable and paced up and down in front of her.

"Stop." She reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Stand still, you are making me nervous. What's on your mind?" He looked at her and again she felt so foreign in this world.

"I have told you how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?" The elf gave a curt nod in response. "The reason he did that was because... well... because my father was King Maric." That statement hit her like slamming into a tree while running. "Which made Cailan my half brother, I suppose."

"Why did you wait to tell me this?" Somehow her brain lacked any more words as she gaped at him like an idiot.

"I would have told you, but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me a secret. I never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fight because of it. I didn't want you to know as long as possible. I'm sorry." He looked on the ground while the elf's mind slowly started to work again. Cailan, the child-king and then, that other man with the cold eyes... Loghain.

"Does Loghain know?" she asked and eyed him warily.

"Why wouldn't he? He was King Maric's best friend. I don't know if that means anything, but I certainly never considered the idea that it would ever be important. At any rate, that's it, that's what I wanted to tell you. I thought you should know about it."

Her thoughts were racing. Though she didn't know much about humans and the way their society was build but if he was truly the son of a King – bastard or no – then he had a right on the throne. In Lothering she heard two men gossiping about the fact that Loghain had declared himself King. So if that had been his plan from the very beginning – which made sense to her since he left Cailan to die – Alistair was a thorn in his side as well. Seeing as he was a Warden would mean killing two birds with one stone. She bared her teeth and let out a low growl, they had to be even more careful than she thought. Then she shook her head and looked at Alistair, eyeing him calculatingly.

"Are you hiding more?" she asked and he smiled smugly.

"Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no, that's it. Just the prince-thing."

"So... uh... should I be calling you Prince Alistair?" she asked, still confused about the whole secrecy-thing. One should be proud of one's heritage, a Dalish surely was.

"NO! Maker's breath! Just hearing that gives me a heart attack. It's not true anyhow; I'm the son of a commoner. It was always made clear that the throne is not in my future, and that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood but he is Cailan's uncle and more importantly very popular with the people. Though... if he's really as sick as we've herd... no... I don't want to think about that. I really don't. So there you have it. Now, can we move on? And I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens." May pulled a face.

"That's not really what you think, is it?"

"Well, no. I guess I'm lucky that I still have the chance to do some good." With that he turned around and walked away. For a while she stood there, rooted to the spot and stared at his back. This man was such a hypocrite!

"Elf, it is time to move on," Sten said, who had approached her, but she was too confused by Alistair to jump by his sudden closeness.

"You are right. Everyone ready?" she asked and as she looked up at him he gave a curt nod and waited for her to move. Morrigan looked utterly unimpressed, which didn't confuse Maylea as much as she thought it should, but Leliana stared openly at Alistair's back. The look the elf shot her let her mouth snap shut and then they went onward.  
>On a bridge, which spanned over a rivulet that ended in a waterfall, they were stopped by a man, militia, by his looks.<p>

"I thought I saw travellers come down the road, though I scarcely believed it. Have you come to help us?" May looked at him bewildered.

"What do you mean?" she asked but he ignored her and looked at Leliana instead.

"So you don't know? Has nobody out there heard?" He seemed scared and the elf frowned.

"We heard that Arl Eamon is sick, if that's what you mean," Leliana answered.

"He could be dead for all we know! Nobody has heard from the castle in days! We're under attack. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone's been fighting, and dying. We've no army to defend us; no Arl and no King to send us help. So many are dead and those left are terrified they are the next," he nearly whimpered.

"Hold on! What's this evil that's attacking you?" Alistair asked and the man gladly focused on him.

"I... I don't rightly know. I'm sorry, nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together; he'll want to see you."

"Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" Alistair asked astonished.

"Yes, he's not far. If you come with me?"

Then he turned and hurried away, down the hill, past a windmill and towards another imposing stone building. May fought hard not to snap at the man in irritation. She could see why other Clans had a more extreme attitude towards humans. She tried to heed her Keeper's words, but it was so damn hard. She was treated like a _**pet**_. She snarled at that thought and clenched her fists, which caused Sten, as well as Harshal, to look at her.

In front of the stone building she stopped and Leliana nearly ran her over. The militia man stopped and looked at her, a slight mark of annoyance in his face but he remained silent.

"What's wrong?" Leliana asked confused. "Why did you stop?"

"I'm not going into this building," the elf simply stated and all except Alistair looked at her confused. He snickered but fell silent immediately as she shot him a dark glare.

"We are going to talk to Bann Teagan, not the Revered Mother," he said to convince her.

"As soon as such an old shrew rears her head I'm out of there," she hissed and Morrigan laughed while Leliana gaped at her like a fish.

"But the Maker..." she started and May cut her short as she whirled around to glare at her.

"_**We**_ have our own stories; I don't need to borrow yours."

"Maylea... come, we need to talk to Bann Teagan," Alistair insisted and gently tugged at her quiver.

"Lead on," she spat out and followed him into the building.

They saw a man – Lea thought he might be around 35 winters – talking with an old man. As they were finished talking and the militia man approached him he turned to greet him.

"It's Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They are obviously not simple travellers." His voice held authority but was throughout friendly.

"No my lord, they just arrived and I thought you might want to see them."

"Well done, Tomas. Greetings friends, my name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the Arl." Again it was Alistair who spoke.

"I remember you, Bann Teagan. Tough the last time we met I was much younger... and covered in mud." Immediately Teagan's face lit up.

"Covered in mud? Alistair? It is you, isn't it? You're alive! This is wonderful news!"

"_**Still**_ alive, yes," Alistair corrected. "Though not for long, if Teyrn Loghain as anything to say about it."

"Indeed. Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew amongst other things." Teagan shook his head.

"You don't believe Loghain's lies?" May asked and he turned his head towards her and let out a dry laugh.

"What, that he pulled his men in order to save them? That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory? Hardly. Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the King. I do not believe it. It is an act of a desperate man. So you are a Grey Warden as well? A pleasure to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances." Immediately the anger she still felt dissolved. She caught herself staring at him, the first human who wasn't a Warden and didn't treat her like some lower class but as an equal.

"You are here to see my brother? Unfortunately that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill. No one has heard from the castle in days, no guards patrol on the walls and no one has responded to my shouts. The attacks started a few nights ago... evil things surged from the castle. We drove them back but many perished during the assault."

"What are these things?" Alistair asked.

"Some call them the walking dead, decomposing corpses returning to life with the hunger for human flesh. They hit again the next night. Each night they come with greater numbers. With Cailan dead and Loghain starting a war over the throne no one responds to my urgent calls for help. I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst yet. Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends." Teagan pleaded and May looked at her fellow Warden. He looked uneasy and nearly flinched under the Bann's pleading stare.

"It isn't just up to me, though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon."

May was about to say something about taking responsibility and leadership but she kept it to herself. Alistair looked at her, pleading in his own way. Somehow he looked like a kicked dog and she resisted the urge to sigh. She knew that – if Alistair was right about Arl Eamon's popularity with the people – the Arl could expose Loghain as a liar, or at least make the people pause and think twice. It would allow them to travel more safely and faster, and they might even have a base where they could rest and stock up their supplies. Though she didn't hold much love for humans in general in her heart she thought no one should engage walking corpses. She remembered the corpses in the ruin, just before the mirror and shuddered inwardly.

"We will help," she stated and Teagan beamed at her.

"Thank you! Thank you! This means more to me than you can guess. Tomas, please tell Murdock what transpired, and then return to your post."

"Yes my lord."

"Now then, there's much to do before nightfall. I put two men in charge of the defence outside. Murdock, the village's mayor, is outside of the Chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up at the cliff by the windmill, watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle."

"We're on our way," May said and he nodded.

"Very well. Luck be with you, my friend." Without another glance backwards she hurried out of the building and took two deep calming breaths. Alistair behind her sniffed the air.

"What is that smell? Fish? And something else. Oh... more fish." Leliana giggled to this statement and Morrigan scoffed.

What do we do now, elf?" Sten asked and she looked at him, shortly thinking it through.

"The fight won't be easy. I once encountered walking corpses, though it were only four and we were two who fought them. When I see what's left of the people who are able to fight... that doesn't look good. Morrigan, you should rest. We need you at full power this evening, Alistair, you and Leliana will go up to see that knight and look if you can do something for him to help prepare. Sten and I will be talking to this Murdock to find out what we can do." Though Alistair seemed to want to object he remained silent and trailed after Leliana who immediately left. Morrigan looked for a nice place to find some silence and May went with Sten to talk to Murdock.

An unfriendly remark died in the man's throat as he looked up at the Qunari and he quickly came to the things he needed. Morale was low and a little bit encouragement would help them, or so he said. And nothing did that better than a few jars of ale. The elf wasn't convinced, as was the Qunari, but if the human said so... Otherwise they needed the village's blacksmith to repair what little armour and weapons they had, and said man refused to talk to anyone. And they had a dwarf in the village, a warrior who locked himself away as well.

Talking to Dwyn was easy, at least the dwarfs had some sense of honour, once picked at that point – and after shoving a sovereign into his hand – he agreed to help. The blacksmith was another matter. Maylea hated it when people were drunk. The Dalish rarely celebrated debauched and if they did, they did with wine. Once Tamlen, Junar, Fenarel and she had gotten away with one bottle of wine and ended up really drunk. Junar had kissed a Halla's nose while Fenarel ran away from one of their Dread Wolf's statues, screaming like a little girl with Tamlen on his heels to catch him before he woke up the whole forest while she was violently sick behind some bushes. And in the smithy it stank horribly after such stuff. She agreed to look for his daughter – which earned her a disapproving glare from Sten – and he agreed to repair what he could. On the way up to the tavern Sten decided to talk to her about her foolish promise.

"You are not intending to keep that promise?" he asked and she cocked a brow.

"If we are going into the castle, why not? If we are already there..."

"You said you will search for her, and searching means a delay. There is no time to waste." She frowned.

"I will decide when we are there," she stated and he glared down on her.

"That's foolish."

"If you say so." He fell silent after that.

Within the tavern the elf's already thin patience got strained even more. Humans like the owner of that hovel were the stereotype of all prejudices the Dalish had. She tried it the nice way, even used her silver tongue, but in the end she drew her dagger and rammed it into the counter right in front of him, while barking at him. She let out all the anger that had accumulated this day and after nearly wetting his pants he agreed on serving the militia for free. She ripped her blade out of the wood and then stomped out of the building. May could've sworn that she saw Sten smirk at her, but she didn't want to look to make sure.  
>They met up with the rest back down in front of the Chantry.<p>

"So, are they ready?" May asked and Leliana nodded.

"Yes, they are. We found some barrels of oil that we can set on fire. We sat up a trap up there; it'll make facing them easier. Oh, and we saved a small boy. And you?"

"We recruited a dwarven warrior with his lot, an elven archer and got the blacksmith to do the needed repairs," May replied toneless.

"Then we should rest till sunset, I guess it will become a long night, no?" the redhead asked and all nodded. May needed to get away a bit and whistled for Harshal to join her. Sten sat down and seemed to meditate while Leliana entered the Chantry to inform Teagan. What Alistair did she didn't care. She found herself stopping at the shore of Lake Calenhad and sat down, occasionally flipping stones into the water while Harshal hunted the waves the stones caused. It was entertaining to see how the dog seemed to play with his mirror image on the water's surface. She even snickered silently, but then she heard footfalls. Her elfish sense of hearing and the way the person walked it was obvious who it was.

"I... can we talk?" he asked and stopped behind her.

"If you must," she only replied and he sighed. She heard some metallic clinking and then he sat down next to her, his gaze fixed on her profile, since she kept her eyes locked on the lake. He seemed to look for words and kept silent.

"You are such a hypocrite," May blurted out and he frowned.

"I'm what?"

"You heard me quite right! You keep asking questions – very personal ones – and keep secrets yourself! And that particular one wasn't small either!"

"Everyone treats me different and I hate it! I wanted to stay just Alistair to you," he tried to defend himself.

"And lying to me does accomplish that?" she asked and finally looked at him.

"I didn't lie, I simply didn't tell."

"Does that make a difference? You haven't been honest to me."

"And you are?" he shot back and she winced.

"I'm not lying about my parentage."

"What is it then? You keep saying, shouting and whimpering the name in your dreams. I don't need to pry; it's audible for everyone at camp." She snapped her mouth shut and turned back to watch Harshal, who chased some ducks around on the shore a few meters away.

"I cannot talk about it, it's... too hard," she finally choked out and he snorted.

"Too hard? Having someone close to you die is hard," he mumbled and she shot to her feet and glared down on him. The icy look to her eyes returned tenfold.

"There are things far worse than death, _**brother**_," she nearly spat out the last word while shaking uncontrollably due to her anger.

"You are not the only one who lost someone! You cannot begin to imagine what others left behind!" She was furious.

"But probably you don't care, like most of you humans do!" Absentmindedly she rubbed over her collar bone where her armour hid a nasty scar.

"You keep painting us all with the same brush! Has it ever occurred to you that we're not all alike?" he shouted back and got to his feet as well.

"You are not the one who gets treated like someone's pet!" Then she whirled around and marched a few feet away where she stopped and slapped both hands over her face. "What am I doing here?" She heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head.

"I don't treat you like a pet," Alistair said quietly and she bit her lip at the hurt in his voice. "I treat you my equal, since you are. You are a Warden like I am, yet you are the one dropping harsh comments about humans frequently." He walked towards her and stopped only inches behind her. "Perhaps I should go... it seems talking wasn't a good idea." Then he walked away and she finally managed to turn around.

"Alistair! Wait!" May called and he stopped but didn't turn to look. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled at you. But that all... it's too..." she stopped and closed her eyes, unable to finish.

"I see. Just know I'm there for you, all remarks aside," he told her over his shoulder and then went back into the village. May stood there and felt like an idiot. After a while she heaved a sigh and called for Harshal and followed her fellow Warden.

Some of the villagers had brought something to eat for them and the Wardens gladly dug in. Leliana eyed both of them curiously, but found nothing to start a conversation about.

"How do we proceed?" Sten asked after they had finished eating.

"Morrigan, Alistair and Leliana will go up to the windmill while we and the dog will stay here. This place is too open, I don't like that." The Qunari nodded and eyed the barricades that were set up.

"What? Why am I sent up there?" Alistair hissed into May's ear.

"Because you know how to interact with knights and Morrigan doesn't," she answered.

"And why Leliana?" he nearly whined.

"Because I can't stand talk about your god and prefer Sten's quiet." Again he seemed that he wanted to object, but then snapped his mouth shut and turned away.

"Alistair..." she said and hurried up to him. "Thank you." He looked at her questioningly but then shortly smiled and left. Leliana trailed after him with a happy grin while Morrigan shot a glare at the elf for sending her along with the ex-templar.

"The villagers don't expect to be attacked from somewhere else than the draw-bridge, but you do," Sten stated and Maylea nodded.

"Yes. It's just... a feeling. And I learned to trust on that." He seemed everything else but pleased with her statement but didn't argue with her. May looked up to the path where Berwick had closed up with Alistair and felt guilty for sending the latter up there. A tiny voice in her head had wanted him to stay at her side, had wanted him to argue back, but he didn't, not after the argument they had earlier.

"May the Creators watch over your path," she mumbled and then looked away. Dwyn stayed down here, along with his lot, and came towards her.

"You there, elf, what do you expect to happen? Those things are supposed to come from the castle." Inwardly grumbling she was about to answer, but the Qunari was faster.

"You are a warrior. Warriors fight without questioning the ones who order." His statement had caused all of the militia to look at them and the hunter was glad for her dark skin colour – again – and that it helped to hide the red that surely coloured her cheeks.  
>She looked around and frowned, before she ordered some last-minute changes in the barricades. They only left two small openings, one to the lake and the other to the path that led up to the windmill. Sten gave a curt nod and then went to the opening that faced the lake and waited. With him taking point and Dwyn and his lot right behind him, the militia had some sort of buffer and they could see how to fight. Maylea climbed a pile of crates to get a better view, while Harshal stood half-ways between her and the Qunari. And then they waited.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

I am so very sorry for the delay in updating, but real life caught up with me. For all those who wonder about the elven language and qunlat... you can find it in the Dragon Age wikia.

Just to explain: Dirthamar means chatterbox. ;)

Now please enjoy!

* * *

><p>Alistair didn't like it one bit. The first two days he found Leliana's presence refreshing, since he actually could talk with her. She wasn't as silent as Maylea and especially not as snarky as Morrigan, but somehow she managed to get on his nerves. He sighed and turned his gaze towards the sky as if he wanted to ask the Maker why he made him suffer like that. The lay sister was going on and on about lost kings, how romantic and wonderful they were and he pulled a face. He should've known that the rest of their merry band wouldn't stay oblivious of his talk with the elf.<p>

"Leliana, please... Shut. Up."

He nearly groaned at the weakness in his voice. Even the small Dalish managed to bark harshly. A side gaze to Morrigan was enough to convince him that the witch found her delight in the lay sister bugging him.

Alistair took his stance with the knights, noting with a smirk that not all of them seemed pleased to have him here and waited. Morrigan stood a bit away, not that he minded that fact much, and had her eyes focused on the path that led down towards them.

Leliana and Berwick were standing on the empty oil barrels and waited. As soon as the loud rattling of the draw-bridge was to be heard they lit the oil and prepared for the onslaught.  
>At first Alistair wasn't prepared for what he saw, but he recovered quickly. The corpses looked horrible, yes, but darkspawn were worse. He shuddered because he had known so many of those who had been killed and dragged off to the castle.<p>

He had a goal in his head, not to let anyone die tonight and he wanted to see it through.  
>The corpses came down on them in waves, and each was bigger than the one before. Morrigan threw a fireball in the middle of one of these waves, dispatching nearly all the foes with her move. As glad as he was about it, he hated the smell of burning flesh. Leliana and Berwick did their best to at least slow the creatures if they couldn't kill them, but sooner or later they'd be running out of arrows.<p>

None knew how long the fighting went on for, but there seemed to still be more corpses. Where did they all come from? There weren't as many people living in Redcliffe, were there?

"Many had been refugees; villagers and farmers from the south," Ser Perth answered his unspoken question and Alistair pulled a face. These people had been fleeing one horror only to be caught by the next. Slowly his muscle's screamed from the strain and he gritted his teeth to keep on fighting.

At first he didn't notice, but the waves became smaller and then they finally ended. His hands were shaking with the effort to keep his shield and sword up, and his comrades didn't fare better. Leliana rolled her shoulders, a movement that looked far more elegant on Berwick who did the same, and Morrigan leant heavy on her staff. He was ready to collapse right then and there, but he couldn't.

"We need to stay vigilant, Ser Perth. Keep your men on guard, we will..." he started but was interrupted. One of the militia came running up towards them.

"The monsters are attacking from the lake! They're attacking the barricades! We need help!" As if to emphasize his statement a loud bloodcurdling howl echoed up to them.

"No..." Alistair whispered and then ran towards the man. "Let's go! Ser Perth, you stay, guard the path!"

"Come on! We need to hurry!" the militia man urged. They ran down the path, sometimes Alistair was short from falling but caught himself in time. They were tired and strained but the night wasn't over yet. For a moment he stopped to take in the scene while the others ran past him.  
>The fire they lit to enlighten the square in front of the Chantry threw bizarre shadows all over the place. He could see that they had rearranged the barricades and was instantly glad about that. The dwarf and the Qunari surely had tried to keep the monsters out, but the sheer mass of them pouring in now was too much, even for skilled fighters like them. The archers were placed on the stairs of the Chantry, taking the advantage of a higher position to shoot those who tried to climb the barricades. For a while he thought his heart would stop, since he couldn't see Maylea in all the fighting, but then the low sound of her bowstring had his head snapping up.<p>

She was standing outside of the barricades on some crates, her dark skin and armor made her nearly invisible in the night. Harshal was whirling around, snapping at decaying legs and arms, tearing the creatures apart as best as possible, while he avoided being hit by them.

"Ashkost say hissra!" the foreign sound of the Qunari language caught his attention and he witnessed how Sten hacked through four of the corpses in one clean swipe with his long sword.

"Hack them to pieces! Don't let them reach the archers!" Maylea's voice managed to be heard over the sound of the battle and he looked back towards her. His eyes went wide in fear as he saw how one of the creatures managed to sneak up behind her. It grabbed her by the leg and she whirled around, hitting her bow over said creature's head but then she fell.

"NO!" while he shouted he started running, feeling new energy rushing through his body as he reached the barricades and readied his weapons. May's bow lay on the crates where she had been standing mere moments ago, but she was nowhere to be seen. The militia made room for him as they saw him approach and he bashed and hacked his way through the corpses.

"May! MAY!" he shouted but heard no answer.

"Out of the way, fools!" Morrigan shouted and froze some of the fiends with a cone of cold. They blocked the path for a moment and allowed the militia to fall back and reorganize.

"Clear your field!" Leliana shouted and with a disgusted look on her face she started to drag some of the corpses aside; stumbling over bodies while fighting surely was no advantage.

"Where is Alistair?" she asked and looked around, until she saw Morrigan pointing ahead. He and Sten were slashing through the frozen bodies and pushing back the ones who tried to get in.

All had happened how the Dalish expected it to, only being dragged down from her position was nowhere on her list. One of the smaller crates around the pile broke as she fell onto it and the sharp pieces of wood pierced through her armor on the right side. A yelp of pain was muffled as the monster who dragged her down grabbed her at her neck, squeezing her windpipe. How could these things be so strong? She aimed a hared kick at its chest and was released as her foot connected with the body. Gasping for air she fell back on the floor and back into the broken crate. She didn't know what was in there, only that something cut through her skin on her right thigh. Hissing she got back to her feet and angrily slammed her left fist into the monster's face and stumbled away from it.

"Elgar'nan help me," she whispered and drew her blades. She could hear Alistair shouting her name, but she didn't want to waste energy in calling back. But he wasn't alone; she heard Sten as well as Dwyn, sometimes Murdock and Morrigan. A few more corpses came at her, but before they could reach her she heard a dangerous snarl and Harshal tackled them to the ground. His fur was caked with blood and mud, some of it probably his own. His muzzle shimmered dark in the bit of light they had, and made a strong contrast to his white teeth.

"Ma serannas, my friend," she mumbled while burying her blades to the hilt in the creature's chest. She ripped them back out and stumbled backwards, her vision blurry. She was losing too much blood. Panting heavily through the pain she looked up into the sky. The first rays of light slowly crept up the horizon and she smiled wearily; she only noticed somewhere in her mind that she fell. The world was becoming cold and slowly losing color.

"There she is!" she heard someone call and tried to focus on the man's face. Tomas, the young man from the bridge, his face so grey... Weariness tugged at her and she closed her eyes.

"May! NO! Maker no! Don't die on me here!" With effort she willed her eyes open again. Alistair blurrily appeared in her field of vision.

"May... can you hear me?" Alistair asked and looked worried.

"Emma souveri... emma falon..." she mumbled and he frowned.

"I don't understand elfish... Morrigan!" he turned his head and called over his shoulder. Shortly after the dark haired witch came into sight and the elf's eyes fluttered shut again.

"'Tis utterly inappropriate to die here, Warden," she snapped and pain rippled through Maylea's body. Her eyes snapped open as a cry of pain erupted from her throat and the world came back with full force.  
>"You stay with us, Warden! There's a Blight to be stopped and we cannot trust that upon the dim-wit here alone!" Again she felt pain; it came faster and turned into sheer agony. She nearly choked on her next scream and wanted nothing more than to crawl away from the witch.<p>

Sten saw what the elf planned and held her in place while Alistair seemed unable to do something.

"Is that really necessary?" Alistair asked and Morrigan shot him a murderous glare.

"Those splinters cannot remain in her flesh, fool!" She rummaged in her pack for some poultices and finally found what she was looking for. She poured some of it on the ugly cut on the elf's thigh before she moved to the wounds the splinters had caused. The witch roughly shoved a small vial in Alistair's hands.  
>"Make her drink it," she ordered harshly before she started bandaging the wound.<br>"'Tis sort of a habit already; me bandaging you up," she mumbled under her breath and frowned. The ex-Templar uncorked the vial and wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Ugh... that smells..." he muttered.

"'Tis unimportant! Make her drink it, unless you want her to die." With a pained expression he brought the vial up to May's lips but she turned her head away. It really did smell horrible.

"I'm sorry," he muttered and pinched her nose so she had to breathe through her mouth and then he tilted the vial. He saw how the dark liquid left the glass flacon and then quickly held her mouth shut so she couldn't spit it out.

"What was that?" he asked the witch.

"Something that'll help her body to produce more blood and ease the pain, otherwise she would be of no use to us." she harshly answered and then stood up again. She was finished treating her and with a last glance into the Dalish's face she turned and walked away. Alistair shook his head at her behavior, but focused back on Maylea. She still seemed tired but her eyes were clearer. Sten remained where he was and May weakly leant against his legs.

"We need to get back to Bann Teagan," Alistair said and looked at the Chantry. The Qunari gave a curt nod and lifted the elf from the ground. Turning his back in annoyance Alistair marched away. He would've carried her too, if he didn't feel so weak after the fight**.** But at least he took her bow.

He didn't pay much attention to what Teagan said, his only worry was if Maylea would manage to stay on her feet or fall over. Sten stood right behind her, his stare fixed on her tiny figure, ready to reach out should her legs fail her. They really had managed to survive the night without any losses. Some were injured but nothing too serious. Teagan handed May an heirloom helmet as thanks and then the people went back home. The Dalish seemed ready to collapse on the spot, and as Teagan said they needed to make haste Alistair shook his head.

"We need a bit of rest. It has been a long night. We wouldn't be of any help to you." Reluctantly he admitted that Alistair was right. Though May was more than tired she refused vehemently to be brought inside the Chantry. Instead she curled herself up under a tree and Harshal lay down behind her to keep her warm. Morrigan followed her example, as well as Sten and Alistair, only Leliana went inside.

It wasn't even noon as the Qunari woke them again. Groaning Maylea sat up and looked around. All seemed to be awake and ready to proceed so she tried to stand up too. But her leg gave in and she fell down again. Rubbing her sore backside she cursed under her breath and looked surprised as a hand appeared on eye level. Alistair smiled down at her and she allowed him to help her up.

"Ma serannas, Alistair," she said silently.

"Never mind," he mumbled and seemed to blush a bit. Like usual she wanted to adjust her weapons and froze.

"I collected them. You had lost them during the fight," he told her as he handed her the lost belongings. The relieved look on her face was overwhelming.

"You have no idea what they mean to me," she said and put them all where they belonged. "Um... Alistair, I need to apologies for my behavior yesterday. It was inappropriate and racist. Abelas, I didn't mean it." He cracked a smile and then shook his head.

"I guess I can understand that, but... can I ask something of you?" Alistair asked while he helped her hobble up the path where the others already waited.

"Of course," she replied and looked at him curiously. Again he blushed, but this time he held her gaze.

"Can you teach me a bit of elfish?" She blinked confused and then snickered. "What? You keep throwing around phrases and I don't understand any of them. That's... disturbing..." he muttered and she stifled her laughs.

"What an unexpected request, but, I will try."

Teagan was already at the mill, his gaze fixed on the Castle. As he heard them approach he turned to look at them.

"Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was nobody inside at all. But I shouldn't delay things further. I had a plan... to enter the castle after the village was secure. There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only to my family." All eyes shortly tilted to the mill. May frowned at him.

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?" she asked and he looked apologetic.

"I knew you would choose to enter the castle instead of staying in the village... and we needed warriors. I'm sorry if I..." then his eyes went wide as he looked past the small group and up the path. "Maker's breath..."

A fine clad woman came running down the path and May immediately shared Morrigan's expression of mistrust.

"Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!" Something in this exclamation sounded wrong, hollow, said without real meaning. And the little word 'yet' made that all too obvious.

"Isolde! You're alive! How did you...? What has happened?" Teagan asked.

"I do not have much time to explain! I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over, and I must return quickly. And I... need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone." Morrigan snorted, giving the feeling of the group a voice. Maylea eyed the woman calculatingly, she didn't like her, the fact that she was human put completely aside. She had to admit that she liked Teagan from the moment he spoke to her, but this woman... no.

"Why don't we all go to the castle?" she asked and the woman's face shortly whipped into her direction, only to give her a disgusted look before she turned back to Teagan.

"What? I...who is this woman, Teagan?" Alistair sighed and her eyes snapped to him.

"You remember me, Lady Isolde, don't you?"

"Alistair? Of the... entire why are _you_ here?" Again there it was the air of superiority to her voice, and the disgusted look in her eyes. Only this time it was directed at Alistair, which made May furious.

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde. I owe them my life," Teagan interjected and she cocked a brow, but then turned her focus back on the group. Well, on Alistair, to be precise.

"Pardon me, I... I would exchange pleasantries, but... considering the circumstances..."

"Please, Lady Isolde... we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle. We must have some answers!" Alistair said but she turned her back on him, focusing on Teagan again.

"I know you need more of an explanation, but I... don't know what is safe to tell. Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues. And I think... Connor is going mad. We have survived but he won't flee the castle. He has seen so much death! You must help him, Teagan. You are his uncle. You could reason with him. I do not know what else to do!"

"What about Arl Eamon? Is he still alive?" Alistair asked and eyed her suspiciously.

"He is. He is being kept alive so far, thank the Maker," Isolde replied.

"Kept alive? Kept alive by what?" Teagan asked curiously.

"Something the mage unleashed. So far it allows Eamon, Conner, and myself to live. The others... were not so fortunate. It's killed so many and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done with the castle, it struck the village! It wants us to live, but I don't know why. It allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged, because I said Connor needed help."

"Not so fortunate, what an understatement," Leliana muttered under her breath.

"Do you think this "evil" could be some kind of daemon?" Alistair asked.

"I... I do not know. Oh, Maker's mercy! Could it truly be a daemon? I can't let it hurt my Connor! You must come back with me, Teagan! Please!"

Maylea remained silent. All this talk was too much for her. Her injuries were throbbing and her patience with humans was only so strong. This woman was keeping something from them, and if the elf hated one thing, it was being lied to.

"Tell us about this mage you mentioned." Again it was Alistair who spoke, so Duncan was right, his Templar training really was of use for them.

"He is... an infiltrator, I think – one of the castle staff. We discovered he was poisoning my husband. That's why Eamon fell ill," Isolde said, though it appeared she was evading something.

"Eamon was poisoned?!" Teagan shook his head in disbelief.

"He claims an agent of Teyrn Loghain's hired him. He may be lying, however, I cannot say." The mentioning of Loghain's name caused the two Wardens to look at each other.

"Why do I get the feeling that you are not telling us everything?" May finally asked.

"I... I beg your pardon! That's a rather impertinent accusation!" the woman snapped at her.

"Not if it's true." Maylea replied coldly without flinching away.

"An evil I cannot fathom holds my son and husband hostage! I came for help! What more do you want from me? Teagan, I do not have much time! What if it thinks I'm betraying it?! It could kill Connor! Please come back with me... must I beg?" Slowly May reached the end of her fuse, but before she could say anything further she felt Alistair's hand on her shoulder.

"Why must Teagan go alone?" he asked.

"For Connor's sake, I promised I would return quickly and only with Teagan. Teagan, I know you could order your men to follow me when I return to the castle. I beg you not to, for Connor's sake!"

"Parshaara! Enough idle talk. What do we do?" Sten interrupted irritated, obviously as fed up with the woman's charade as the elf.

"The King is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever. I will return to the castle with you, Isolde," Teagan decided and Isolde smiled relieved.

"Oh, thank the Maker! Bless you, Teagan! Bless you!" the longer May heard this sham's voice the more she felt the urge to strangle her.

"It seems you have little choice," the elf said to Teagan and he gave a curt nod.

"I have no illusions of dealing with this evil alone. You, on the other hand, have proven quite formidable. Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer in private before I return to the castle with you."

"Please do not take too long. I will wait by the bridge." Without looking at anyone she turned and walked away. As soon as she was out of hearing range Teagan stepped towards the group.

"Here is what I propose: I go with Isolde and you enter the castle using the secret passage. My signet ring unlocks the door. Perhaps I will... distract whatever evil is inside and increase your chance of getting in unnoticed. What do you say?"

"I don't like it," May said and looked at the still retreating form of Isolde. "She's lying."

"What exactly are we supposed to do in there?" Alistair asked the Bann.

"I wish I knew. I don't know any more about this "evil force" than Isolde seems to. Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance. If you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you. I don't think there's anyone else who could help. If you choose not to go, then it's up to me to do what I can." He handed Maylea the ring and she looked at it curiously. "Whatever you do, Eamon is the priority here. If you have to, just get him out of there. Isolde, me, and anyone else... we're expandable."

"Dirthamar," May muttered while shaking her head lightly, before she looked at him intensely. "You will live. You all will live."

"You are brave as well as beautiful, it seems. The Maker smiled on me indeed, when He sent you to Redcliffe. If only this had been... "

"So we are truly going to send him with that woman? It seems so dangerous!" Leliana interjected heatedly.

"I can delay no longer. Allow me to bid you farewell... and good luck." With that Teagan left them and Leliana looked at May angrily.

"Let's go find this entrance," the elf simply said and limped towards the windmill's door. Harshal had his nose on the ground and found a trapdoor in the corner, where he let out a bark and started scratching.

"Let me," Alistair said and took the ring from her. As he had unlocked the lid and eyed the dark down there suspiciously Sten shoved him aside and climbed down the ladder without hesitation. He let out a whistle and Harshal leaped down into the darkness, where the Qunari caught him.

"Hand the elf down," Came Sten's voice out of the darkness and Maylea seemed like she wanted to argue that she was capable of climbing, but she nearly fell down the ladder. Alistair was barely able to catch her wrist before she fell like a rock.

"Abelas," she mumbled and bit her lip in embarrassment. He simply smiled and rolled his eyes. He grabbed her wrists, secured his stance and then slowly lowered her down.

"Drop her," Sten said. After letting go off her he heard an 'oof' which announced that she was caught. Quickly he followed down, as well as Leliana and Morrigan. The latter once ditched her staff on the ground and its tip started to radiate light. Again Harshal started scratching and then turned his head to look at them.

"He found the door," Leliana stated the obvious. Sadly the door hadn't been used in what seemed like eons, but after a hard push from Sten it inched open.

They had to kill a few more of those corpses – oh the irony – and then they found the mage Isolde had mentioned.  
>May had a short silent conversation with him and then nodded towards the door that led out of the dungeon.<p>

"He's a Maleficar! How can you trust him?" Alistair asked and for the first time since Lothering Sten seemed to agree with him.

"You are a human, yet I trust you," she replied and he winced.

"That's not the same... Bloodmagic is evil," he insisted.

"No less he deserves a second chance," Leliana argued and May rolled her eyes.

"He is locked up, Alistair. No one is down here, what harm can he do? Besides, I believe him as he said he had nothing to do with the corpses," the elf sighed.

"I still don't believe him, especially not the thing about Connor being a mage," Alistair nearly pouted. Sometimes May wished to simply shrug it all off.

"Morrigan... can you add something?" she asked, nearly plead, and the witch gave a short sardonic smile at Alistair before she looked at the elf.

"No mage can do something this great without the help of a daemon."

"Stop Alistair, please," May silenced him before he could snap at the dark haired witch. "This woman lies to us, she knows more than she admitted, and I hate nothing more than being lied to. Teagan is an honest man, and if I can help it I'm not going to leave him to her mercy. I saw the look in her eyes, she is willing to sacrifice everything for the wellbeing of her son, and Jowan's explanation sounded true; logically. At least true enough that I'm willing to trust him. Now, arguing about leaving him alive or no doesn't do us any good. We need to get into that castle, we need to help this Arl of yours and be on our way again." He snapped his mouth shut and then gave a curt nod.

As they reached the castle's yard Leliana and Alistair hurried towards the lever to open the gates. And again they were swarmed by corpses.

"Teth a!" Sten called out, slipping back into his own native tongue and then ran across the yard, where a different looking corpse rose.

May had heard stories – nothing that Hahren Paivel would tell them as they were little – about spirits from the beyond who crossed the veil and possessed bodies – either living or dead. With the many deaths that have occurred here surely the veil has thinned, so it was no wonder.

"Katara, bas!" Sten brought his sword down, but the thing just hissed and blocked his swing. May took her bow and aimed at the other corpses that came down the stairs. She and Morrigan felled the archers, while Leliana helped Alistair and the knights to fend off the other corpses. Then May focused on the creature that fought Sten. She just had her arrow nocked and aimed at the thing as it looked at her, its red eyes burning straight into her green ones. Then it pointed its hand at her and made a pulling motion towards its body. May felt some force grab her and then she flew over the yard, where she hit the ground hard and skidded to a halt right in front of the monster. She barely managed to roll aside before the sword came down on her. It struck the earth next to her head and she tried to get to her feet or at least crawl away. The Revenant – now she remembered! – bashed the Qunari aside with its shield and stepped towards the elf. She tried to reach for her bow, which only lay a few feet away, but her leg didn't support her weight and she fell back on the ground. Hot searing pain shot from her hand through her body and she yelped in agony.

Alistair whipped around as he heard her scream and froze in shock. The elf lay on the ground and the Revenant towered over her, its sword stuck in the middle of her hand, pinning it to the floor where she had tried to reach her bow. Then it yanked the sword out and May curled herself up in pain. She clutched her hand to her chest and aimed a kick at the thing's knee. The beast tumbled back as an arcane bolt hit it and Sten rammed the pommel of his sword into its side, but the red gaze didn't weaver away from the Dalish on the ground. Somehow Alistair willed himself to move and reached May right in time. His shield blocked the hit that surely would have killed her. He pushed back hard, causing the Revenant to stumble back once more. Gritting his teeth and focusing on his templar training he hit the thing with a Holy Smite and then – more or less elegant – beheaded it.

"By the Maker! What was that thing?" Leliana asked as she came towards them, sheathing her blades.

"A Revenant; a corpse possessed either by a pride or desire daemon," he explained and sheathed his sword. "May, you attract injuries," he said and examined her hand, before he took the poultice Morrigan handed him wordless.

"Abelas, it's not my intention. I'm good at hunting animals, not... such... _things_," she stated and looked with disgust on the again dead corpse. Alistair helped her back on her feet and together with the knights they entered the castle.

To all of them it was immediately clear that the boy they saw was possessed. They kept the conversation short but a fight seemed to be inevitable as Connor ran off. The thought alone that she had to attack Teagan made the elf feel uneasy, but gladly knocking him unconscious was enough. Sadly the guards didn't fare that well. Seeing the man as a puppet at the whim of a demon was wrong in so many ways.

"Teagan! Teagan, are you all right?!" Isolde came running down to where he slowly got back to his feet.

"I am... better now, I think. My mind is my own again," he muttered and shook his head.

"Blessed Andraste! I would never have forgiven myself had you died, not after I brought you here. What a fool I am!"

"She finally mastered the obvious," Morrigan mumbled and all the women nodded in agreement.

"Please, Connor is not responsible for this! There must be some way we can save him!" Isolde looked pleadingly at Alistair, who turned to look at May, who simply mouthed 'I told you so'.

"Where is the mage responsible for this?" Teagan asked.

"I threw him in the dungeon where he belongs!" Isolde crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"The mage responsible? Abelas, Bann Teagan, but I talked to him. He isn't the only one to blame. If you wish to seek for someone responsible, _woman_, take the blame on yourself! If you wouldn't have tried to hide your son's magical abilities none of this would have happened! Not the illness of your husband, not the possession of your son and especially not the corpses!" May exclaimed angrily and Isolde gasped.

"How dare you?!"

"Because I am right, _**human**_!" Angrily the elf slapped away Alistair's hand who tried to calm her. "All these people who have died, died because of _you_! Whole families were wiped out because you were so willing to do everything to hide your son! It's your human ignorance that has caused all this pain! Be glad that I'm not someone who kills children, because that would surely be the easiest way! I am here because it means a lot to Alistair, and because I noticed that Teagan does carry the same rare kind of friendliness in his heart that the majority of your race is throughout lacking! We need Arl Eamon's support, but that doesn't mean that I will go out of my way or bow to you to get it! Now get out of my face!" The whole room was silent while all eyes fixed on the small Dalish woman who was shaking with fury.

"What do you intent to do then?" Alistair asked to bring them all back on track. "I mean, I hate killing a child, but... he's an abomination. I'm not sure there is any choice."

"There has to be another way. My people have stories that tell from times where a Keeper would walk the Beyond and fend off the spirit to free a possessed without hurting him or her," the elf said and started to pace.

"'tis possible, but one must enter the Fade, find the daemon and fight it.' Tis not easy, though." Morrigan agreed with her.

"The Circle of Magi isn't far away, perhaps we can convince them to help us," Alistair suggested and May nodded.

"We need to go there anyway."

"But what of Connor? What happens here?" Isolde asked and quickly snapped her mouth shut as Maylea's dark green eyes snapped to her.

"I take that risk," she hissed and Teagan nodded.

"Thank you again, Warden. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your help."

"Ask Jowan, he can have an eye on Connor," The elf suggested while Alistair put out the map and unfolded it on a nearby table. May stepped next to him and eyed the drawings lost in thought.

"Can't we take a boat to get there?" Leliana asked who had joined them.

"There is a barrier around the tower with only one way in. As far as I know only one person is allowed to get there," Alistair explained and rubbed his forehead.

"But we could get to the shore there," May said and pointed on the map.

"Possible. Bann Teagan, do you think there would be a fisher willing to bring us there?" Alistair asked and Teagan nodded.

"After all you did for the people... I think so."

"Great. Then let's go. If we find a fisher we will be faster." Alistair smiled and May nodded.

"Alright, then let's go."

They headed for the door as Harshal nudged the elf's side with his nose.

"What do you have...?" she asked and he placed something he found on her outstretched hand. A smile tugged on her lips as she recognized the piece he brought. Alistair had told her about the amulet of his mother, which he had tossed at the wall where it shattered. And this piece looked exactly like the one he described to her.

The next morning they left the Castle and went down into the village, just shortly after sunrise. The Dalish hunter felt better as soon as the castle and its oppressing walls were left behind. Leliana was the one who talked with some fishers and came back with a satisfied grin.

"They will bring us to the 'Spoiled Princess', where we should meet the one who's allowed to bring visitors to the Tower."

Morrigan and Sten both didn't seem impressed, but remained silent.

The journey by boat was awkward, mostly because all tried not to laugh at Maylea's behavior. She never had travelled on a boat, and the strangely rocking sensation caused her to sit in the middle of the small ship, hugging her knees and fixing her stare on the wood beneath her. It was too amusing. It wasn't dark yet as they reached the shore, but it was already too late to go to the tower and all needed rest desperately. Morrigan took off in the forest while Leliana and Alistair went into the tavern to order a hot meal. Sten looked around, his forehead creased.

"You seem lost in thought. Is something the matter?" Maylea asked and stepped next to him.

"It had been here," he stated and she caught up on what he meant.

"Then let's go look for it," May suggested. She paused and listened, before she went up the slope where she spotted a scavenger.

"You there, human, have you seen a Qunari Sword?" she called and he tilted his head up, the shocked expression turned into a sneer as he saw the elf that talked to him.

"How should I know what you mean, elf?" he asked and she smiled sweetly at him.

"Because my friend wouldn't be amused to hear you pawned his sword off to some random thug." The man paled until he was as white as fresh snow.

"I uh... Faryn has it... he's in the Frostback Mountains, right near Orzammar... n-now... c-can I go?" May frowned and cocked a brow at Sten, who simply stared at the man.

"Go, Shem." And that he did indeed. They watched him run away and May frowned. "We are going to find that sword of yours," she said determined and he looked down at her.

"Perhaps those words are empty… but thank you all the same."

"MAY?!" They heard Alistair call and looked down where he stood.

"I appreciate your offer, elf," Sten said and May smiled up at him while they walked down the slope.

"Hey... um... I didn't disturb anything, did I?" Alistair asked sheepishly and she shook her head.

"No, we were just scaring of a scavenger," the elf replied with a smile and he shook his head.

"I... um... have something to eat and... uh... you don't want to sleep inside, do you?"

"Nae," she looked at the sky which slowly darkened.

"You are rather fond of Sten, aren't you?" he asked and she smiled while she sat down cross legged and looked up at him.

"He's wise in many ways, and he... reassures me somehow. It's hard to explain."

"He's not talking about the Maker and he's not human," Alistair stated drily and she shortly flinched.

"Alistair, I'm talking with you too, even though you believe in the Maker and you're human," she pointed out but he didn't buy it.

"Riiight," he drawled and sat down too, before he pushed the plate with the food towards her.

"It's just... I don't know..." he mumbled. "It's so hard to figure you out." She cocked a brow at him and he felt like a fool. "It's... I cannot explain."

"Maybe I can," she said and took a piece of bread. "I am trying to adjust in a world I neither know nor understand, nor am I accepted in. You've seen how my kind is treated and it fills me with so much anger that I can barely control myself. I'm not proud of my outburst, since I've promised my Keeper to honor my Clan and not shame them. It hadn't been proper behavior, I know that. But amongst us there is no such thing as nobility, we don't need it, since we all are only as good as every individual. It's simply confusing me, and I try to somehow find a place. The one I had is lost to me now." Without much interest she turned the piece of bread in her hands.

"I can't begin to understand how it must be for you. I'm complaining all the time, but obviously you have it even harder than I. I'm sorry I..."

"You are apologizing too much, Alistair. Besides, you keep distracting me," she smiled and then something came back to her mind. "Oh, wait! I have something for you." She fished the amulet out of her pocket and handed it to him.

"This... this is my mother's amulet! It has to be! Why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?" he asked and she shrugged.

"Harshal found it and brought it to me. I don't know... perhaps Eamon repaired it and wanted to give it back to you?" she suggested and he frowned.

"Why would he do something like that?" Alistair asked confused.

"Perhaps you mean more to him than you think," the elf offered and a slow smile spread across his lips and she smiled warmly. Once more he reminded her of Tamlen, but this time it didn't ache that much.

"I... guess you could be right," he admitted and trailed his fingers of the amulet's surface. "We never really talked that much, and then the way I left... Thank you, I mean it. I thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this, if he... _when_ he recovers, that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago. Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow... hah, I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things," he babbled.

"I happen to listen a lot, even if you're just talking to the dog," she smirked. Alistair seemed to think about a reply, but remained silent and watched her instead. This time a bit of the smile reached her eyes and he took it as a good sign.

"So, tomorrow we're going to see the mages, right? Great. They just love me," he said sarcastically and May cocked a brow at his statement.

"They are not like Morrigan, are they?" Maylea asked and he blanched.

"Maker's breath! I hope not!" he exclaimed and a smirk tugged at her lips and she heaved a sigh.

"Elgar'nan. Well, you wanted to learn some elfish, didn't you?" she asked to get his mind away from what he was thinking.

"Ah, yes. But... can I ask you something first?"

"You are so full of questions," she stated and tilted her head.

"Well... chances are we'll be heading to Denerim soon, and I wanted to know if we could look someone up." She gritted her teeth.

"Loghain will get what he deserves," she growled.

"No, I know that, but that's not what I'm talking about. The thing is, I have a sister. A half-sister. I never knew her and I think she doesn't know about me, either. When I joined the Wardens I did some research, and I found her, her name's Goldanna and she lives in Denerim, just outside the Alienage. So I thought..."

"When we're in Denerim we can check up on her, if you like," May said.

"That would be... I mean with the Blight and all, if I never saw her and something happens to her..."

"You don't need to explain yourself. I know how loosing family feels," she muttered.

"Thank you," Alistair smiled warmly and took some bread and a slice of the roast. As they had eaten he sighed contently.

"Now I'd be up to some lessons."

Well, May would boil it down to: he tried. On the first Arlathvhen she could remember she heard some of the elders teaching elfish to some flat-ears. Back then she had laughed at the way they spoke, since it had been so natural to her. She frowned at him and then tipped her forefinger against his chest.

"You have to feel it in there, it has to come from within. Try again." This time he did it better and she nodded approvingly.

"That's it, remember that."

"Why don't you teach me the words, I'll learn the vocabulary and then we're going to the intonation?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Nae, Alistair. You want to learn, you learnt it my way."

"You're a stern teacher," he playfully complained and she cocked a brow.

"You think me stern? You should've heard Hahren Paivel when we were young, then you'd know what 'stern' means," she chuckled.

"You think there is a chance I might get to meet them one day?" he asked and she sighed.

"I hope so," she sighed sadly.

"Abelas," he said and she looked up, surprised, only to see him grin impishly. "What? You said that quite often so I had enough time to practice." She remained silent, her face bare of any emotion and his grin faltered.

"Did I... say something wrong?"

"Nae... you just... took me by surprise," she answered slowly and then cleared her throat. "Anyway... we should sleep."


End file.
